


Nighttime Monsters

by Chronyxx



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: 5.0.5 Is a Sweetheart, Angst, BH has Serious Mood Swings, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Demencia is a Completely Insane Lizard Lady, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Flug is a Nervous Dork, Gore, He's Either an Evil Gentleman, Humor, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Mood Swings, Reader is a Slight Badass, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Strong Language, Tags May Change, Violence, as usual, but not a lot, lots of humor, or He's Completely Horrible, reader has no specified gender, very light romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-02-15 21:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13040013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chronyxx/pseuds/Chronyxx
Summary: When you find yourself in an unfamiliar part of the city in the early hours of the morning, you learn that monsters can be around every corner, and one of them just so happens to wear a top hat. But this monster isn't content with simply hiding in the shadows at night, waiting to torment you once you get too close to the darkness. No, no - this monster has much better plans. He plans to turn you into one of the very monsters that you're so wary of.ON HIATUS.





	1. A Rough Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite your constant paranoia of anything involving the night and its infinite mysteries and horrors, you somehow find yourself wandering the streets of an unfamiliar neighborhood during the very early hours of the morning. Imagine your surprise when you find that the most heinous villain of them all just so happens to be taking an early morning stroll as well, and when your paths inevitably cross, you get much more than you bargained for.

_Nothing good ever happens after midnight._

This was something you always told yourself, and was the soundest piece of advice you could ever offer to another person. Living in a city where horrid crimes were nothing new, and its citizens had been subjected to it for so long that discussing topics like mass genocide and bank robberies were considered normal family conversations to have over dinner, you couldn’t help but be paranoid. Hatsville was home to just as many villains as it was heroes, and sadly, the poorer districts had never been a priority for superheroes, who were more concerned with defending the busier, more populated areas of the city from crime, leaving the less wealthy ones unprotected from villains.

In turn, with these districts left defenseless, they soon fell into villain hands, becoming hubs for illegal underworld dealings by the villain community, who ruled over them with an iron fist, striking fear into the hearts of innocents who resided in them and even those who lived in other districts surrounding them, which often kept many outsiders away, out of fear of being gunned down for their wallets and whatnot. So when you found yourself roaming the streets of one of the more poverty-stricken districts of the city sometime in the early hours of the morning, you couldn’t help but be on edge.

Clad in only some casual attire and a light coat, which made you an easy target for the cool gusts of nighttime, autumn air to take hold of your body and send relentless shivers down your spine. You clutched your torso with one arm, the other in your back pocket, grip tight around the handle of the dagger you always kept on your person in case of an emergency. One could never be too careful - _especially_ not in this city.

In all honesty, how you had managed to find yourself here of all places - at this time of night, no less - was a mystery to even yourself, but you nevertheless berated yourself for your idiocy inside the inner workings of your mind. You would never admit it aloud, but despite your firm belief of nothing good ever coming out of the night, you had tendencies to wander about the city, no matter the time of day, and just think about anything that came to mind.

Most of the time, you would simply take strolls around your neighborhood, never trekking too far from home, but today was different. This time, you had gone for a walk in the night - the very thing you were the most fearful of. You had delved too deep into your thoughts, mind gone and body on autopilot as you walked until your feet ached from overuse, your conscience only surfacing when you finally looked up from the pavement and took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Paranoia had settled in by now, its firm grasp having already taken hold of your head, making you acutely aware of everything around you, and fear gripped the very back of your mind. You had absolutely no clue as to where you were, or how you had gotten there, but from the trashy alleyways and ramshackle buildings that lined the streets, it wasn’t hard to guess you had somehow found yourself in one of the poorer districts. Which also meant that the chances of being mugged, shot, stabbed, and a handful of other unsavory things that could happen to you were extremely high. The feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach that accompanied the dread was not at all pleasant, but you were thankful for it. It kept you on your toes, ready to defend yourself should the need arise, which you sincerely hoped wouldn’t be the case, but you could never know.

The streets were devoid of all life, except for you - _thank god_ \- and the only source of light came from the flickering streetlights looming overhead and the soft, pale glow of the moon. It would have been relaxing, if not for the eerie silence enveloping the world, the only sound coming from your footsteps as you wandered along the sidewalk and the gentle breeze that blew past you, making a mess of your hair as it was tousled about in the wind.

Stopping to sit on a bench near the corner of the street, which you decided would be the perfect place to rest your tired feet for the moment being, you reached a hand into your coat pocket, fumbling around until you felt a long, rectangular object and clasped your fingers around it. The screen flickered to life at the press of a small button on the side, and you quickly unlocked it, grateful that you actually brought your phone with you this time. The digital clock in the top right corner read a little past two o’clock in the morning, meaning there was still a good three hours until it would start getting light out.

_Great._

In hopes of learning your location and how to get back home, you swiped across the screen a few times until your eyes landed on the ‘Map’ button. You clicked on it, and your phone screen flashed white, a circular loading symbol in the middle of it. After what seemed like forever, though in reality, was only thirty seconds at best, your phone still had yet to load the app. This agitated you, and did nothing to quell the sinking feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach, as you began to randomly tap the screen, in an attempt to speed up the loading process. Of course, this did absolutely nothing except irritate you further, and you let out a loud groan of distress, coming to the conclusion that your efforts were in vain as you chucked the useless hunk of metal back into your coat pocket.

So, there you were - alone, sitting on a bench in the middle of god-only-knows-where, with crashing waves of paranoia-fueled anger and anxiety coursing through you with great force. You threw your head back, allowing your eyelids to briefly close, a soft hiss of air escaping you as you breathed out a heavy sigh through your teeth.

“Great. Absolutely wonderful. This is just _perfect_.”

Those words escaped past your lips with little thought, rolling smoothly off your tongue before you could even realize you had uttered a single word, and breaking the silence that had settled around you. The air was heavy with apprehension, likely due to the stress you were under from your current situation. You wished that this was all a bad dream that you could simply wake up from, but when you opened your eyes once more, you were bitterly greeted by the same trashy buildings and alleys that had been there before. At that exact moment, just when you thought your night couldn’t get any worse, the sound of footsteps - ones that you knew as not your own - came from the alleyway directly behind you.

They were ever so faint in the beginning that you at first thought it was simply your paranoia-stricken mind playing tricks on you, until they gradually grew louder with each tap against the pavement, and it was only then that you came to the realization that your mind wasn’t pulling tricks on you at all - _this was very real._

Your stomach churned, and out of pure terror, your body shut down, not daring to move a muscle, your eyes now fixated on the streetlight just across the street, and mind flashing with different possibilities as the footsteps grew nearer, mainly consisting of, _‘is this person going to harm me in any way, shape or form?’_

In that moment, you truly regretted leaving your home way past sundown, because now those footsteps halted, and you could sense the presence of someone standing directly behind you. But that wasn’t the worse part. In the light of the streetlamps, you could make out the stranger’s shadow looming above your own - it was tall and lanky, with sharp, angular shoulders. It took on a human-like appearance, torso covered by what looked to be a fine, gentlemanly coat. You would have found solace in the fact that perhaps this person wasn’t one of the thugs that roamed the streets at night - looking for innocents to rob and torture, or whatever sick things they did - if it had not been for the top hat that rested upon the shadow’s head, which was an all-too familiar sight that spelled out only pain and suffering for any Hatsville resident that found themselves misfortunate enough to encounter it.

Your stomach was doing flip-flops now, and a nauseous feeling swelled up inside you, fueled by raw, primal horror.

Why was _he_ here?

It was like something straight out of a horror movie. You were completely frozen in place - your body refusing to move from its current position, knuckles turning white from their grip on one of the slim, painted wooden planks that made up the bench. Running wasn’t an option. All you could do was sit there as the figure bent down, his breathing faint on the back of your neck. You broke out into a cold sweat when you heard a dark chuckle right beside your ear, sending a tremble throughout your stiff body.

_“Rough night?”_

You could hear the amusement in the rasp of his voice, and a gloved hand was placed delicately upon your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Your throat had gone dry, and you were far too petrified to move even an inch.

The villain seemed further entertained with your lack of a response, letting out another cackle, though this time much breathier, ending it with a low, inhuman hiss, not unlike one a snake would make to warn other animals to stay away.

“Whatever is the matter, hmm? Did the cat steal your tongue before I could?” He asked again, his grip on your shoulder tightening until it was borderline _painful_ . With that threat, whether it was actually a threat or just a way to scare you even further, it made no difference, as the blood rushing through your fingers sped up, forcing its way through your arteries in order to accommodate the fast-paced beating of your heart, which pounded in your ears like a drum. You were positively certain that _he_ could hear it too.

Then, just as quickly as the hand had landed on your shoulder, it pulled back, and it was almost like a switch, turning your body back on, as you finally regained the ability to move your muscles once more. But you weren’t able to test out your re-found abilities, unfortunately, because a split-second later, a dark cloud of inky-black mist appeared in front of you, preventing any chances of escape, and causing you to nearly jump from your seat in surprise. You let out a shocked gasp when the mist transformed into a solid matter, becoming a humanoid figure now made of flesh and clothes - top hat and all.

His grin was stretched impossibly wide across his dark grey features, revealing two rows of jagged, minty-green teeth that were like daggers, gleaming menacingly in the pale light of the moon, and the visible eye that wasn’t hidden behind his monocle was filled with a deranged, intense emotion that made you feel like you were being impaled with the dangerous leer he sent your way.

As cliche as it sounded, you swore that time had slowed right then and there. Seconds became minutes, and minutes became hours, as you were engaged in a staring competition with the very definition of evil itself - _Black Hat_.

The man - or creature, for lack of a better term - was considered the greatest villain of all time. Having not only taken over the world several times before, but also taking joy in destroying an _entire planet_ in his leisure time, as well as being the cause of many - if not almost all - horrible, historic tragedies throughout the course of human history, he was a pretty big deal, to say the least. That being said, despite having retired decades ago, he still remained a constant target for superheroes, trying to put an end to his tyranny once and for all. Of course, none of these attempts have ever worked. Most people were convinced that whatever kind of creature Black Hat was, he was indestructible.

No one had a clue as to exactly what he was, and he made no hints to it either, but one popular belief shared by heroes, other villains, and citizens alike is that he is an eldritch demon born in the pits of Hell’s Fire some millenniums ago and has been roaming the Earth ever since, terrorizing mortals at any chance he could, whether it be with petty crimes or blowing up banks and hospitals just for the fun of it. And now, with the way he was looming over you, it appeared you were his new plaything for the night, something he could toy with just to get a few sick kicks out of it.

You wanted so desperately to look away from him, but it was almost like you were in a trance, hypnotized into an unwavering stare-off against the malevolent spectre, gazing into the malice brewing in that single, dark eye of his.

Shattering the silence once more, Black Hat let out a small _‘tsk’_ , his previously far-too wide grin twisting into a light scowl, and that psychotic look in his eye vanished in an instant, as he appeared to study your horrified form.

“Not exactly very chatty, are you?” He said casually, which perplexed you beyond belief.

Black Hat, greatest villain of all time and public enemy number one, who has been staring into your soul for what felt like an eternity now and earlier threatened to take your tongue, to comment on something in such a casual tone was… odd. Just odd. You were still scared shitless right now, but you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at this.

You had once heard a news report on the villain, by a superhero who had fought him one-on-one in a bank robbery case and lived to tell the tale, saying that he frequently had sudden mood swings. One moment he could be as civil and gentlemanly as the clothes he wore on his back, and the next he could be in a complete maniacal frenzy. Perhaps this was one of those mood swings?

Either way, you just wanted to get out of there and away from him as soon as humanly possible, and unfortunately, with no superhero in sight to come to your rescue, you had to pull off an escape on your own. Maybe if you could catch him by surprise, you could slip away unscathed.

Remembering the dagger hidden away in your back pocket, you made an attempt to reach for it, your arm moving at a snail’s pace, so as to not provoke the villain’s attention. Luckily, he was more concerned with staring you down, focused on your face rather than the rest of your body. Your fingers clasped around the cold, metal handle, and you had to maneuver your fingers trickily to slide the blade out of its sheath, all while keeping eye-contact with Black Hat. It was unnerving, to say the least, considering his visible eye was now filled with an unidentifiable emotion. You had no idea what he was thinking or planning, and that was not a good sign whatsoever.

But pushing that feeling of dread in your gut aside, you knew it was time to strike.

“H-Heh, I guess not,” you replied shakily, muscles tense as you readied yourself. You held the dagger in a death-grip, knuckles completely white as you waited for the perfect opportunity. Black Hat, surprised by your sudden response, bent over until he was eye-level with you, sending an expression somewhere between questioning and smugness your way. However, you only gave him a nervous, lopsided grin in return.

The villain flashed you a smirk.

“Oh, so you finally found some backbone? How lovely. Allow me to snap it in half-”

He was interrupted by the hilt of a dagger to the side of the face, a small grunt escaping him as you pushed him away in attempt to put some space between you and Black Hat with powerful force that neither of you expected.

Taking to your feet and sprinting past him, you ran into the alleyway that he had originally came from. Your heart was racing a mile a minute, fueled by a mix of fear, adrenaline, and your own amazement. You certainly weren’t the most fit person on Earth, and you were certain Black Hat was much stronger than any human could possibly hope to be, but the fact that you had been able to rush him with such power was astonishing. If you hadn’t been running for your life, you would have given yourself a pat on the back.

The merciless villain, having been staggered by your attack, stood by the now abandoned bench, head turned towards the alleyway, where he could hear the sound of heavy footsteps against the pavement running in the other direction. Regaining his composure, and rubbing where he had been struck, he flashed a wicked, toothy grin in the direction of the alley, eye dark with an emotion between anger and exhilaration.

A string of revolting, acid-green drool slipped past his mouth and down his chin, which a long, forked tongue lapped away seconds later.

“So, you want to play cat and mouse? Very well then - _be my guest!_ ”

**\------ ~~~ ------**

You heard him shout something, but you were too far away now to hear exactly what he had said, and in all honesty, you really didn’t care. All you wanted to was to get out of this place and get back home. Big, bad villain and crime-riddled part of town be damned. However, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be so easy. You were certain Black Hat would be quick in a chase, and with very few places to hide, you were probably better off simply keeping up the pace and running as far as your legs could carry you.

Exiting the alley, you made a sharp turn to the left. How you had ended up here in the first place was still a blur, but you at the very least knew that this was the direction you came from. If you could trace back your steps, all while remaining on the run from the world’s most dangerous villain, you were positive you would get back home in no time! At least... you hoped so.

You thought you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, but for the sake of not shitting yourself, you refused to look back, this time knowing better than to blame it on your paranoid mind toying with you.

 _“Just keep running, (Name),”_ you told yourself in the back of your mind. _“Just keep on running.”_

You began weaving in and out of alleyways and streets in an attempt to lose him, even throwing over trash cans and garbage bags to block his path. At this point, you could no longer hear footsteps, save for your own, or anything at all for that matter. Everything was silent except for the obnoxious beating of your own heart and the heaving breaths you took as you ran as fast as you could.

You were sweating like a pig now, dagger still in your hand threatening to slip from your grasp due to your clammy palms. Your throat was as dry as a desert, and your side was beginning to cramp up from overexertion. Thinking you were finally in the clear, you stopped in a lone alleyway after minutes of dashing through the streets, though in your mind it felt like hours.

Back pressed against an old, worn brick wall of a building, you allowed yourself to rest for the moment being, breathing in heavy gasps of air to accommodate for your raging pulse. Your legs felt like jello - all wobbly and knees threatening to give in at any moment. You felt like you were going to throw up, not having exercised this much since gym class, back in your high-school days.

You stood there for only god knows how long, taking in the stale air lingering in the trashy alleyway, yet it was sweet to you all the same. You were simply content with the fact that you were still breathing and not a mangled corpse right now, as you were certain would have been your fate if Black Hat had managed to catch up to you.

Perhaps the villain realized you were more trouble than you were worth and decided to go find another civilian out and about late at night to terrorize to make up for his previous prey escaping on him. You momentarily felt bad for whoever that sorry sod would be, if that was the case, but you were more grateful that it would be someone else and not you any longer. As harsh as that sounded, you couldn’t give a damn anymore.

You were alive, and that’s all that really mattered when it came to survival, was it not? Human nature was selfish like that, but it was simply how you were, and that couldn’t be changed.

With that thought in mind, you breathed a sigh of relief, regaining your composer. You felt absolutely disgusting. You were completely drenched from head to toe in sweat, and your inner body temperature was practically sizzling. To help yourself cool down, you freed yourself of your jacket, wrapping it around your waist and securing it with a knot made from the sleeves. You wiped your moist palms on the sides of your jacket, and returned to holding the dagger tightly in your grasp.

You may have eluded Black Hat, but you weren’t necessarily safe yet. You were still stuck in the same filthy, poor district you had been in ten minutes ago, and you knew danger could be behind every corner. Dawn was still a few hours away, and the night held nothing pleasant for you, as it had already proven with your earlier encounter.

Slowly, you strode out of the alley, still on alert for any signs of trouble. It would be best if you continued walking in the direction you came from, as within time, you would be out of the area and back someplace familiar. So you did just that, walking along the sidewalks, streetlamps and the light of the moon being your only guides.

Time escaped you as you trotted along, more concerned about getting back home safely than keeping track of how much time had passed, though you were certain it had definitely been a while - at least twenty minutes by now - since you successfully escaped Black Hat. Your feet were growing sore once again, heels aching with each step, but you ignored the pain for now. The sooner you got back to safety, the better.

You were about to turn a corner when you heard something behind you, the sound similar to metal scraping against stone. Your head darted in the opposite direction, eyes wide as they landed on a troubling sight.

Standing about only three car lengths away from you were two men, flashing you menacing grins full of yellow, rotting teeth. One carried a metal pipe over his shoulder, which must have been the source of the sound you heard, and the other was barehanded. Your stomach dropped. They were clearly thugs, most likely looking for money, drugs, or… something else.

The barefisted one took a step forwards, in turn causing you to take a step backwards to keep an equal distance between you and them, however, he didn’t seem to notice. And if he did, he just didn’t care.

“Hey there,” the thug greeted you, smile crooked. “What’s someone like you doing out here so late at night? You looking to party?” He and his buddy exchanged a laugh, and you swallowed hard, steeling yourself for yet another confrontation.

“That’s none of your business. And _no_ , I am not looking to… ‘ _party’_ , or whatever,” you responded, voice stern and harsh, though there was a trickle of fear underlying your bold tone. “Now leave me the hell alone.”

The barehanded thug’s care-free expression morphed into one of surprise, and he looked back at his partner, as if to say _‘you seeing this shit?’_ before turning back to you once more.

“C’mon now, you don’t mean that. Why not come have some fun with us? We won’t hurt ya,” he spoke again, his tone now slightly agitated and he gestured to his friend holding the metal pipe, who grinned unnervingly at you.

Scoffing, you went to turn away and take off running once more, when a sudden pain struck you. One of them, presumably the guy who had initiated conversation with you, was now tugging roughly on your hair, causing you to wince.

“Hey, I ain’t done talkin’ to ya - _Agh! What the fuck?!_ ”

You forced yourself free of his hold on your hair when you swiped at him with the dagger that had still been in your grasp, the sharp tip slicing into his wrist, though not deeply enough to come in contact with his artery vein. Stepping back, he let out a pained hiss through his disgusting yellow teeth, holding his wounded hand and glaring up at you with enraged eyes, his buddy behind him following suit.

“So, you wanna play like that, huh?!”

Without another word, you ran in the opposite direction, once again on another chase for your life. You heard the wounded thug shout to his friend, _“Well, what are you just standing there for?! After that shithead!”_ , and it was soon followed by a wild scampering of footsteps from behind you.

With his buddy on your tail, you knew that you had to do what you had done before with Black Hat. Once more, you began weaving through streets and alleys, blocking the way with trash cans filled with foul waste and bags of garbage that you had haphazardly flung behind you in an attempt to get the man off your trail. Luckily, it seemed to be effective, as you heard a loud racket clamoring behind you, followed by a firm _‘thud’_ , of what you assumed to be the thug tripping and falling.

With him on the ground, you took that extra time to bolt around a corner and out of sight, then slipping into another back alley. There was a large dumpster in the alleyway, brimming over with revolting trash that reeked of weeks-old food and what you could only guess was human waste. It made you gag profusely, nearly on the verge of vomiting at the putrid smell, but nonetheless, you hid on the other side of it, so the man wouldn’t see you if he came this way, though you made sure you breathe out of your mouth from now on.

Once more, you heard footsteps, heavy and fast, accompanied by furious grumblings that you knew belonged to the thug. Those footsteps got closer and closer, until they were directly in front of the entrance to the passageway that you were currently hiding in. Your breathing slowed, and your heart sped up, panic coursing through you as you prayed he wouldn’t enter the alley. Fortunately, it appeared Lady Luck was on your side today, because the thug walked right on past, and once his footsteps could no longer be heard, you let out a breath that you didn't even realize you had been holding, whispering a soft _“thank god”_ to yourself.

You stood up from your crouching position behind the dumpster, and were about to walk out of the back alley when you heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the direction the thug had walked off in. You nearly let out a scream of your own, but luckily stopped yourself short of a surprised gasp, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. You were concerned for the man, wondering just what had scared him enough to make him scream so loudly, but at the same time, you were alarmed by it as well. You stayed perfectly still for the next minute or so, still standing in the alleyway. After that initial scream, everything had gone silent, but then you heard another noise, though much more low, making you have to strain to hear it.

It was a squelch-like sound, as if someone was walking around in wet boots after being out in the snow or rain for too long, which caught your attention right off the bat. _What could possibly be making that sound?_

Hesitantly, you exited the passage, wandering along the sidewalk at a snail’s pace, so your steps made little to no sound as you walked. Sneaking around the corner, your head peeked out from the side of a building, eyes scanning the area. The thug was nowhere to be seen, and the squelching had gotten louder, now accompanied by a peculiar cracking. Something smelled foul too, like blood and roadkill. Disgusting.

That feeling of dread was back again, settling in the pit of your stomach and mixing with the lingerings of your earlier panic to create a toxic cocktail of unease. Something wasn’t right about all this. You knew that since the man let out a sound-piercing scream of terror. The back of your brain was shouting at you to start up back in the direction you had came from, to head back home, where you would be safe and sound, but your curiosity got the better of you. You had to know why he had screamed like that.

_What did he see?_

_Was he okay?_

The man may have been after you just moments before, most likely wanting to smack you upside the head with that metal pipe of his, but you couldn’t help the concern that took over you. Something was definitely wrong, and you wanted to know what.

Sliding out from behind the building you had been peeking over, you took your sweet-ass time approaching the source of the squelching sound, and as you grew closer, that horrendous stench grew bolder. You had to start breathing out of your mouth again, otherwise you would most likely puke up the remains of your dinner from earlier that night. You stopped in front of the entrance to yet another dim alleyway, and your body went rigid. There was a long, crimson trail of blood leading into the narrow passage and around the corner into an adjacent one. From the way it glistened in the light of the streetlamps, it looked to be fresh. Your mind began to race with thoughts.

Was this what the man had seen that made him scream? Where was he, anyways? _And whose blood was this?!_

Grip tightening on your trusty dagger, the tip coated red with drying blood from when you had lashed out at the other thug, you entered the alley, taking cautious steps. The sound, dear god, the sound was so loud now. Between the squelching and the cracking, it was sickening, making you want to vomit just listening to it. But there was no turning back now, you thought to yourself, approaching the corner ever so slowly. Swallowing hard in an attempt to gather some bravery, you turned the corner, and were met with the most horrifying scene you had ever laid eyes on.

There was the man, or at least, what was left of him. His body was mangled beyond recognition, the only clue as to who he had been being the bloody, metal pipe lying next to his corpse. His chest cavity had been flayed open, and blood was splattered everywhere. It was on the walls, the ground - hell, he was completely covered in it, from decapitated head to mutilated toes! Several bones were protruding from his maimed flesh, completely split in two, with the jagged ends covered in blood.

However, this was not the worst part of it all. No, no - that was just the beginning of the horrid sight. The most horrendous part of it all was the monster towering over the fresh cadaver. Its ashy grey skin was splattered with crimson, and long, glossy black talons carved into the muscles and tissue, playing with the exposed organs within the carcass’s chest cavity, and making a noise that you knew as the squelching sound you had heard earlier.

It’s mouth was wide open, acid-green saliva trickling down its chin and onto the ground below, mixing with the puddles of blood. You were horrified, but it was so much more than just that. It was a mix of many things. However, what _unnerved_ you was the smile on its face. The creature had killed a man and was currently mutilating his carcass beyond recognition, and was enjoying every second in it.

You were completely gone, unable to look away from the sight, unable to run, unable to do… anything! It was like your body had once again ceased all function, rendering you useless and _utterly vulnerable_ to the monster directly ahead of you. You knew that the moment it looked up, it would see you. Within seconds, your life would be over, and you would end up like the mangled flesh, broken bones, and organs that had once been a man only five minutes before. That was the most haunting part about this whole thing. That pile of meat had been a living creature, and was a fellow human - one of your kindred. But it didn’t look like a human, not anymore.

You didn’t notice when it had happened, but with your body rendered as still as a statue, unable to control your muscles, the dagger that you had been holding fell from your grip, clattering onto the pavement. You didn’t hear it - too focused on the scene in front of you to point where your senses were fogged over - but the creature _did._ It raised its head, single visible eye meeting your gaze, its beady, black pupil dilating at the sight of you.

You were terrified, that much was true, given how you still couldn’t move a muscle, but there was something about how the monster looked at you that gave you chills, not from terror, but from another unidentifiable feeling, like you had experienced this before. It felt like your heart stopped when you finally came to the realization. The monster in front of you was no monster at all.

He seemed to notice that look of realization in your eyes, because that smile grew wider, flashing off his pointed teeth that had been dyed a deep red, and one skeletal, clawed hand leisurely waved at you.

You felt like you were going to vomit, a heavy feeling a nauseousness overcoming you, and you stumbled backwards, legs moving on their own. Your world was becoming dark, growing dimmer by the second. Your knees gave out, and you collapsed onto the cold, hard ground below. The last thing you saw before your world went totally black was the monster disappearing in a cloud of shadowy mist, and a pair of polished, black and white dress shoes approaching you.

_“Ah, there you are.”_


	2. What's Up, Doc?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so this is what Hell looks like - a strange manor belonging to a psychotic high-ranking villain and home to a nervous wreck of a scientist with some stuttering issues.
> 
> Huh, you would have never guessed.

The early morning sun had been blotted out by dark, heavy clouds, which weeped onto the world below, pelting it hard and fast with their fallen tears, drowning out all sound except for the occasional flash of lighting and agonized roar from the sky. All in all, another wonderfully dreary and miserable day in Hatsville.

The lab was pervaded by a thick, eerie silence, only penetrated by the sound of rain showering the roof and the fan of the air conditioner. The scientist’s brows were furrowed in concentration, keeping a steady hand as he gently squeezed a drop of clear fluid from the pipette in his grasp. Flug observed the small drop as it splashed into the flask below, mixing with the acid-green chemical contained within. A few seconds passed before he began to notice any chemical reaction, eyes widening ever so slightly behind his goggles when the toxic liquid began to froth, and he set the pipette down, grabbing a pen and a notepad when he was rest assured that the fizz would not brim over the side of the flask.

Flug went to work, jotting down hastily scrawled out notes as he studied the reaction further, his intense focus on the task at hand blocking out the sound of the door to the lab opening, accompanied by shoes clacking against the white, tile flooring.

“Greetings, Doctor,” a familiar voice rasped from behind, penetrating the silence and his concentration, as he whipped his body around to face his boss.

“Ah, good morning, Black Hat, s-sir,” he clasped his gloved hands together anxiously, a light tremor passing through him from the unexpected intrusion as well as a trickle of fear as he struggled to meet the gaze of his superior. “I was just, uh, testing a n-new batch of-”

His eyes landed on the limp body slung haphazardly over one of the eldritch’s shoulders, and he let out a soft _“oh…”_ in response to the sight.

Black Hat’s smile grew at the doctor’s reaction, and that was when Flug noticed that his usually minty green fangs were tinted slightly red. _Huh._ Wait, were they red? Maybe his jaded mind was playing tricks on him. He hadn’t had a proper night’s rest in over a week now, so he wouldn’t be surprised if he was beginning to see things. Perhaps it was nothing. The doctor made a mental note to take a nap later on. And check his coffee supply.

Black Hat, noticing his scientist’s sudden loss of interest, impatiently cleared his throat, and Flug jumped at the sound, shaking himself from his train of thought.

“I have a task for you, Flug, and it involves our little friend here.” Black Hat said, gesturing to the body in his hold, and the scientist raised a curious eyebrow from behind his paper bag. At first glance, he had thought them to be dead, but upon further inspection noticed that their chest slowly rose and fell with each soft breath they took. So, if this mystery person wasn't dead, then Black Hat had another purpose for them that required them being alive. Naturally, his brain went straight to the most obvious reason.  

“...Um, do you w-want me to, uh, perform an experiment of some kind on them?”

Flug’s question was met with a dark chuckle, his boss’s visible eye gleaming with something sinister.

“No. Not yet, at least,” the vile spectre tittered. “You see, I was out taking a stroll in the Slacks earlier this morning, seeing the sights, and looking for an easy prey to terrorize, when as fate's guiding breeze would have it, I encountered this peculiar little mortal,” Black Hat pressed a gloved claw into the side of their cheek, leaving a pale mark from the pressure that slowly faded back to the natural color of their skin. “Their terror was appropriated, most certainly so, albeit their hostility towards me was quite the vexation to me, to say the very least.”

With that, his grin twisted into a mild scowl, as he recalled tehir rush on him, and a dagger materialized in his free hand in a cloud of inky smoke. The doctor, with his boss’s nod of permission, plucked the blade from his open hand, holding it upwards into the light, and examined it with an attentive gaze. While appraising weapons wasn’t his specialty, it didn’t take a genius - which he was, ironically enough - to come to the conclusion that the blade had been used in a scuffle of some sorts. There were light scrapes along both the hilt and blade, and not to mention the most obvious characteristic - the tip that had been dyed a brownish-crimson with dried blood.

Flug eyed the unconscious body draped over Black Hat’s shoulder. “I, uh, presume this belongs to them?”

The eldritch gave a slight nod of his head.

“You presume correctly, Doctor. They were rather eager to put it to use, as they not only struck me, but some other unfortunate lad with it as well,” his bitter expression once again morphed into that of deranged optimism, visible eye filled to the brim with a hysterical exhilaration that he tried desperately to suppress. Well, at least Flug now knew who the caked-on blood belonged to. “I would have made them pay dearly for their insolence, but I believe we could put their ambition to better use. You’re a man of reason and logic, Flug. What do you say to a new member of Black Hat Organization?”

The question hit him hard and unexpectedly, like a sudden, harsh slap to the face.

A new member?

As in, a new _coworker_?

Was Flug hearing him correctly?

He wasn’t sure or not if this was all just some elaborate prank set up by his boss to get a kick out of him, or if he was actually being earnest. Black Hat hadn’t accepted anyone into their ranks since the creation of 5.0.5, and that took Flug an entire year’s salary and countless hours pleading at his boss’s feet. For him to suddenly permit a new person - who, from his wording, appeared to have no experience in villainy whatsoever - to enter his establishment out of the blue was absurd!

“W-Well, uh, sir, that’s a decision for you to decide,” Flug said, returning the dagger to the malevolent creature that he called his boss. “But if you want my, um, personal opinion, I suggest they undergo some, uh, p-proper training before the rest of the villain community is even allowed to be aware of their, um, position among us, sir, let alone their e-existence.”

He must have said something that irritated his boss, because the next second the eldritch’s features twisted into that of a snarl.

“ _And you don’t think I’ve already thought of that…?_ ” Black Hat’s eye lowered in an accusing glare, and he glowered at the scientist, who flinched away defensively.

Flug gulped hard, fidgeting fearfully. “U-Uh, no offence to your, um, i-intelligence, sir! I merely have your, uh, best interest in mind…! B-Black Hat Organization certainly doesn’t work with amateurs, c-correct?”  

“Exactly,” Black Hat let out a low, menacing growl, before his mood flipped on itself once more, and within a split-second, his signature, villainous grin was back on his face. “Which is why we won’t be working with an amateur. At least, not officially. So, my dear, anxiety-ridden doctor, this is where you come into play. I want you to run some diagnostics on our lovely friend here. Make sure they didn’t hit their head too hard during their fainting episode earlier - nasty fall, that was. I might have just taken pity on them, if it wasn’t for the hilarity of it all - oh, and once they rejoin us in the waking world, bring them to me. I want to have a chat with them on our current situation. Hopefully, they’ll be easily swayed, considering the circumstances surrounding it.”

Though he was tempted to remind his boss that his Ph.D was not that of the medical variety, Flug instead gave a simple nod of his head, and Black Hat set them down on a nearby table that Flug had cleaned off a few days prior, leaving the doctor to tend to them by his lonesome as he exited the lab.

Being a scientist, he did not have any training in giving medical care - well, unless mediocre skills with the scalpel counted as medical care, which it most likely did not - so he would just have to resort to checking for any obvious injuries and asking them some basic questions once they rose from their slumber. Slowly, he let out a soft sigh from beneath his bag as he approached their limp form.

It looked like his latest project would have to be postponed for now.

**\------ ~~~ ------**

Instead of waking up to the sound of your own internal organs being munched on by that damn eldritch in his demonic, bestial form like you had expected, you found that your current situation was much less grotesque. There was the soft sound of objects clinking as they were picked up and placed down, and the light hum of a nearby fan.

Your head was pounding, and there was a bright light shining in your face - that much you could tell. The glare was harsh against your eyelids, your vision turning a deep ruby in color beneath them, and you struggled to turn your face from the light, only to find something was holding your throbbing head in place, which only excited a sharp bolt of pain to course through your brain and you instinctively let out a whimper of agony.

Of all the things you could have woken up to, this just had to be it. A splitting headache and what felt like the light of a thousand suns slowly but surely blinding you. However, it’s not like you could complain exactly. It’s a lot better than being some demon’s midnight snack.

You had to be in a hospital of some kind, right? After you lost consciousness, Black Hat must have left you in the alleyway with that mangled corpse, and a good samaritan came along and found you and brought you to a nearby hospital. At least, you prayed that was the case… No, it had to be! That could be the only explanation as to why you’re still alive. _Wait_ , are you alive? Maybe you really are dead. Maybe this was Heaven. Or was it Hell? Does Hell provide medical care? And constant, radiant light shining in your face? No, that sounds more like Heaven than Hell.

Before you could continue to compare your surroundings to the planes of the afterlife, your thoughts were interrupted by yet another surge of pain through your head, except now it was ten times worse than before. Letting out another tortured cry, you went to grab your throbbing head, but something stopped you. A hand clasped over yours and detained it at your side, while another hand held the back of your head, keeping you from moving it.

“H-Hey now, easy, easy.”

That voice was the final push that got you to finally open your eyes, but not by much. That light was still ever present, and with the way it was shining directly in your face, you had to resort to squinting to make out basic shapes of nearby objects.

Well, besides the blinding light, this place sure didn’t look like Heaven. Or a hospital, for that matter. There were strange contraptions and large pieces of unbeknownst machinery scattered about the room, and blueprints, posters, and sticky notes littered the metal plated walls. Not to mention that the weird guy shining a desk-lamp in your eyes didn’t exactly look like an angel either.

“Wh… What the _hell_ …?” Was all you could manage to mutter out before you were seized again by the excruciating agony that seemed hellbent on keeping you docile under its crushing hold. Feeling like you were about to vomit from the pain, you made an attempt to sit up so you wouldn’t get anything on yourself if you did begin hurdling right then and there, but the man - who, judging by the white coat he wore, appeared to be a doctor - released your hand and placed his now free one directly in the middle of your chest to keep you down. He didn’t apply much force in order to detain you, but it worked nonetheless, as your assaulted mind complied with the doctor’s wishes.

“I know you, uh, must be very confused and, um, in a lot of pain right now, but please try not to move,” he pleaded softly, despite his best efforts to project his voice. Even though the doctor’s face was completely covered by a paper sandwich bag - oddly enough - you could tell that he was quite distraught. “Y-You’re perfectly safe, okay? There’s, uh, nothing to worry about, so p-please, uh, try to relax.”

Remaining silent, you tried desperately to suppress the nausea swelling up in the back of your throat as the doctor went about his business. He retracted his hand from your chest, and went about moving the desk-lamp, which he appeared to be using as a makeshift flashlight, to various areas around your head, occasionally using the hand situated at the back of your skull to move it in order to get better viewing angles. You winced whenever his hand moved over a particularly sore area on the back of your head, to which he would mutter out an small apology and continue his work, being extra careful to avoid that area.

After a minute of this process, he clicked off the light with the flick of a small switch and reached for a nearby pad of paper and a pen, flipping to a new, blank page and beginning to write down a hasty series of notes.

“Okay, so, uh, you do h-have quite a large bump on the back of your head. It, um, must have been from when you fell earlier, b-but it doesn’t appear to be anything too, uh, severe. I’m guessing that you’re, uh, under a c-considerable amount of pain?”

You gave a soft _“mm-hmm”_ as your answer to his question, brain still pulsating against your skull far too painfully for you to form proper words at the moment. The doctor jotted down another small note and set the notebook and writing utensil on the table you were currently sprawled out upon, walking over to a nearby desk and searching its cluttered contents. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, and returned to you with a small pill bottle in hand.

Unscrewing the cap, he shook out two small, baby-blue pills and offered them to you. “These should help to, um, get rid of the pain you’re currently experiencing.”

Using your arms to sit up, you took the pills from him and swallowed them, your saliva acting as an aid in washing them down your throat.

“G-Good. The effects should b-begin kicking in within, uh, about half an hour, so just hang tight until then,” he gestured for you to lay back down on the table with a fidgety hand, to which you complied. “If you need anything, um, I won’t be far away, so, uh, just call for me. Oh, um, r-right, I forgot to tell you - my name is Flug Slys. I’m very sorry, my, um, b-brain is pretty scattered at the moment. But, uh, yeah, just call if you, uh, need anything, and I’ll see what I can do.”

With that, Flug left you to rest for the time being, until the pills he had given you took their toll, which would hopefully be soon. You tried your best to close your eyes and get some more rest, but the pain was too great at the moment, seizing control and preventing you from returning to your slumber, so you merely laid there for what seemed like hours, thinking about anything and everything, as long as it took your attention away from your searing migraine.

You could hear glass and metal objects softly clinking together from the other side of the room, being placed down and picked up in a slowly repeating cycle. It was obvious that whatever Flug was up to, he was trying to keep the noise level to a minimum, likely as to not rouse the pain throbbing away in your head further. It didn’t do much to help, but his efforts did not go unappreciated by you.

All in all, the man was indeed a rather peculiar fellow - very fidgety, soft-spoken, not to mention a nervous wreck who looked like he was constantly on the verge of an anxiety attack, but he did his best to help you, so he seemed like a pretty nice guy in your book. Even if he did wear a paper bag over his face. Once you were stable enough to head back home, you would have to thank him on your way out.

After what felt like another hour of staring off in various directions at nothing in particular, you noticed that the pain in your head had toned down to only a light throbbing, and it wasn’t long after this realization that the doctor returned to your side, inspecting you behind a pair of thick goggles.

“A-Are you, um, feeling any better yet?” Flug asked softly, to which you gave a small nod in response. “Good, good. Alright then, if you, uh, could please try standing, we can finally get you up and at it again.”

Following his instructions, you sat up from your position on the table and slowly but surely lifted yourself off it. The sudden movement caused you to become lightheaded, and the pain to pound a bit more, but it went as fast as it had came. You stumbled slightly at first, your legs not having been used in at least a couple of hours, but you eventually got your bearings, releasing the edge of the table that you had been using for support.

“A little worse for wear, but, uh, nothing we can’t fix in due time,” the doctor commented as he evaluated your current condition.

You gave him a faint smile in return. As much as you appreciated his concern, wanting you to stay longer to keep track of your condition, all you really wanted to do now was go home and forget that any of this ever happened.

“Thank you, Dr. Slys, but I think I’ll be able to handle myself now,” you offered a small giggle to Flug, trying to sound as polite as possible so you didn’t seem rude for turning down any further care. “If you could just point me in the direction of the exit, I’ll be out of your hair. I really appreciate all you’ve done, Doctor.”

Instead of the reaction you expected, the doctor went completely quiet for a moment, and the room was filled with an awkward silence. After a few seconds, however, Flug seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere and your uncomfort at the new situation that had arose, as he gave a slight cough before fidgeting some more.

“O-Oh, sorry, sorry! But, uh, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m not a doctor - w-well, _technically_ I am, but, not in the way you think. Um, I’m actually a scientist.” Flug said meekly, and your mouth formed into an _‘o’_ shape.

Well, that explained the bizarre contraptions and blueprints. So, this place wasn’t a hospital, or even a small doctor’s office for that matter, but a _lab_ . This brought on another question: _why were you brought to a scientist’s lab?_

The only reasonable explanation was that Flug was the one who found you passed out in the alley and brought you back here to care for you. That would explain why he knew of your fainting accident. But, wouldn’t he have mentioned the corpse that couldn’t have been over eight feet away from where you passed out? Or at least asked what had happened for you end up the way you did? This was all awfully strange, but then again, your entire night and day so far has been an oddity in and of itself. It was nothing a little rest in your own bed and a steaming cup of tea couldn’t fix, though.

With that thought in mind, you flashed him a beaming smile.

“Oh, well then. Still, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of me. I don’t have much on me right now, but I can give you whatever I have to compensate for your efforts,” you reached into the pocket of your coat, which was still wrapped tightly around your waist, fumbling for the small wallet you always kept on you whenever you went out, in case you ever wanted to buy something. “Will twenty dollars do?” You asked, holding out the bill for him to take. However, he just eyed you oddly from behind his goggles.

“N-No, that isn’t necessary,” the scientist declined, gesturing for you to lower your hand. As you went to return the twenty dollar bill to its proper place in your wallet, he added, “Um... a lot has already been taken from you, so, uh, keep what you still have.”

You would have thought his statement was an attempt to crack a small joke in order to lighten the mood, but the solemn laugh he offered afterwards eradicated any humorous intention his words may have possibly held. Brows furrowing, you couldn’t help but notice _that feeling_ was back again. It was cold and familiar, settling heavily in the pit of your stomach, and that smile on your lips slowly faded into a thin, flat line.

“I’m sorry, what was that…?”

At your question, Flug seemed to carefully ponder his response for several moments, before giving up on it entirely and breathing out a small sigh from under his paper mask. You couldn’t help but notice ever since his last comment, he’s been getting more and more distressed with each passing second.

“O-Oh dear, well, uh, l-look, I’m going to warn you right now and say that this, uh, isn’t exactly very g-good news for you, but uh…” the doctor trailed off, trying to find the proper words for the message that he wanted to convey to you. The visible skin of his neck was gleaming in the light with a thin layer of sweat, and he clasped his hands shakily, clearly nervous about something. “I’m, um, afraid you’re not going anywhere.”

_What?_

Now it was _your_ turn to eye him weirdly. “E-Excuse me? What the hell does that mean?”

Something wasn’t right about all this. This entire situation in itself was fishy, now that you thought about it. In an attempt to put some distance between you and the doctor - who you now deemed was of questioning motives - you slowly stepped back a few feet. Noticing this, Flug, who was already on the verge of going into a complete panic, did just that.

“W-Wait, please just c-calm down a-and, u-um, I’ll explain e-everything!” Flug threw his shaking hands in front of him as if to show he wasn't armed with any weapons. “I w-won’t h-hurt you, I p-promise. So, u-uh... _please?_ ”

It was obvious that you were on edge - your body was stiff as a wooden plank and the accusing glare you shot at him still had yet to cease - but the scientist’s plea seemed genuine, and considering that he looked like he was about to have a panic attack right then and there, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“ _...Okay_ ,” you agreed, eyes softening ever so slightly, and the doctor let of a sigh of relief, the panic inside of him quelling.

“T-Thank you,” Flug said relieved, and he gestured for you to sit back up on the table you had been lying on earlier. You obliged - though rather hesitantly - by placing yourself back on the table, hands clasped together tightly in your lap as you continued to eye the doctor suspiciously.

Dr. Slys grabbed a stool that had been near the cluttered desk where he found the painkillers he had given you, and carefully took a seat on it. Your gaze didn’t go unnoticed by him, as he grew visibly more uneasy as he made eye-contact with you. He let out a heavy breath, and rested his head in the palm of his hand, visibly sweating bullets now from underneath the paper bag he wore.

“Okay, l-look, I wasn’t, uh, s-supposed to tell you t-this,” Flug turned his head back upwards to face you, tone morphing into one of seriousness, though his stuttering and nervous pauses refused to cease. “The b-boss would, uh, have m-my head if he found out, b-but I think you, u-um, at least d-deserve this. I’m gonna be very, uh, f-forward with you - _you can’t leave_.”

The tension inside you only grew with that.

“What?! You can’t keep me here!” You scoffed, growing both alarmed and angry. You didn’t care who Flug’s boss was or what he would do if he found out about anything - you had the right to leave!

The scientist only shook his head. “L-Look, I’m sorry - I _really_ am - but B.H.’s w-word is law here, and I c-can’t go against it.”

_B.H.?_

_That couldn’t mean what you thought it did, could it...?_

The anger and panic inside you turned into an icy dread as it surged through your body, and your head was beginning to throb at a steady tempo once more due to your heightened emotions.

“W-What? Dear god, no... P-Please tell me BH doesn’t stand for what I think it does-”

Flug interrupted your thought with a simple, two words, but those words threw you into an inescapable pit of terror and despair.

_“Black Hat.”_

Your body once again shut down for what had to be the third time that morning, and your gaze turned away from Flug, instead staring at the small cracks in the metal tile flooring as you took this information in. The nausea had returned, swelling up in the back of your throat, but this time, it wasn’t from the pain in your head - it was out of pure, raw horror. However, you weren’t able to dwell on it any longer, because Flug once again interrupted your train of thought.

“You s-see, uh, I was supposed to b-bring you to see him the moment t-that you, um, woke up, but I d-decided against it - you l-looked like you were, uh, in a lot of p-pain,” he explained softly, as though if he spoke too loudly, your fragile mind would shatter. “I s-still have to soon, but, um, I t-think it would be b-best if I told you w-what’s going to happen before the boss does. H-He can be a bit, uh… cruel with his words.”

He took a long pause, and he rose from his seat to place a twitchy hand lightly on your shoulder to get your attention. Your eyes met his goggles once more, but this time, the harsh glare from the light fixture above hid his eyes, making him seem hollow, without any other way to tell what he was thinking or feeling, besides the glow of sweat on his neck.

You heard the click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Um, what I’m about to t-tell you is going to be, uh, no different than what Black Hat is g-going to tell you, so l-listen carefully and it will make both your life and mine much easier,” his tone, though not increasing in volume, became stern, and you gave him your full attention now. “Black Hat is the one who b-brought you here, and, um, _‘here’_ is his manor. Y-Yeah, so, uh, you’re kinda in the b-belly of the beast r-right now. A-And he brought you into my lab to make sure you, u-um, weren’t injured t-too severely. W-Which you weren’t, so don’t worry about t-that! Actually, he left the lab about t-ten minutes before you regained consciousness, so you, uh, luckily just m-missed him…”

Flug ended the very last sentence with a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. However, your blank expression only stared back at him, and he coughed uncomfortably at his unsuccessful attempt to get a laugh out of you. Yeah, this definitely wasn’t a good time for jokes, but nobody could blame him for at least trying.

“W-Well, that’s besides the point. So, uh, how do I explain this easily…?” Flug wracked his brain for the proper words he was looking for. “Um, I don’t k-know what you did with that knife of yours to c-catch his attention, but, uh, he’s demanding that you become apart of Black Hat Organization, which, uh, means that you’re g-gonna have to live here now, and work for him for what will p-probably be the remainder of your life. N-Now, uh, I know this looks very, very bad for you, but hey, it’s a lot better than being dead-”

“I understand, Dr. Slys.”

Those words slipped past your lips faster than you could even comprehend what you had said. If what Flug was telling you was true, Black Hat basically kidnapped you after you had passed out in the alleyway, brought you back to his base of operations - _his own home_ \- and was now seeking an audience with you to inform you that the rest of your life would be spent working under him.

Today just wasn’t your day, now was it?

Coming to a decision, you slowly lifted yourself off the table and tapped the scientist on the shoulder, who glanced back at you in surprise.

You offered him a smile, but it was obvious that it was forced. “Well? What are we waiting for then? Take me to him.”

Flug only stared back at you, and you could practically hear his eyebrow raise from underneath his bag. “W-What?”

“You heard me, Doc. Look, it’s exactly like you said - it’s still better than being dead. So, I might as well go face the music now than hold off on it. So come on, let’s go.”

You tried to keep your tone cheery, but you found it to be rather difficult. It was as clear that it was as fake as the smile you flashed him, but that didn’t deter you. If you were going to be trapped here for the rest of your life, you might as well just accept it and make the most of it. That’s what you told yourself as Flug complied, escorting you to the exit of the lab.

The bulky, metal door opened automatically, and you and the doctor stepped into a much less modern area of the manor. The walls were covered in a vintage, forest green wallpaper, with what you could only assume was the company logo printed on it. And as Flug guided you up the large staircase and through many winding corridors, you couldn’t help but notice the great many paintings that were hung on the walls. All of them seemed to include Black Hat in some way, whether they be full portraits of him in elegant attire or his top-hatted silhouette looking on at events of mass destruction - most likely being the cause of all of them - as they took place in front of his very eyes.

Huh, this guy sure was full of himself.

Flug had to grab you by the sleeve several times to keep you moving, as you would often stop to ogle at paintings and odd knick-knacks, but eventually the both of you halted in front of a pair of wide, gigantic double-doors that towered over you intimidatingly.

Flug cleared his throat.

“So, uh, t-this is the place. Now, um, before you go in, make sure you show him your utmost r-respect. No running, no jumping, no crawling, no dancing, no crying, no screaming, no laughing, no singing, no staring at him, no touching anything, do not speak unless you’re spoken to, refer to him as _‘sir’_ and _‘sir’_ only, and whatever you do - do _not_ upset him. He has, uh, t-tendencies to get angry very easily, and, uh, it’s not a pretty sight to see. So just, um, k-keep that in mind, let him talk about whatever he needs to talk about, and you’ll, uh, be fine. I’ll be, um, w-waiting for you out here.”

You were tempted to ask if you could even breathe while in Black Hat’s presence, but out of fear of what the answer could possibly be, you decided against it. You nodded to the doctor to show that you understood, and with that, he knocked on the wood of the large door, which most likely signaled your arrival to the demon inside.

_“You may enter.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took way longer to write than I expected. I must have rewritten the beginning at least four times, but finally my indecisive mind finally settled for this. I'm gonna try to push out the next chapter within two days time, since Christmas is right around the corner and I'm finally on break! It won't be holiday themed, but there might be a more festive chapter coming once the plot has settled, even if it may be a bit late. 
> 
> And for those of you who may be wondering, I did delete my other Villainous fic. After I changed it to an OC-insert, I simply wasn't happy with it and I no longer had much motivation to keep it going, so I got rid of it. In all honesty, I thought that would be the case, as it was my first time writing for this fandom. It was more like an experiment piece for me, to try to see how I could write the characters while still keeping them in character, if that makes any sense. Of course, that story only got so far to see BH, so this is my first time writing the others. However, now that I'm more confident with my writing for the Villainous fandom, I think I'll be able to write Flug, Demencia, and 5.0.5 without taking away from their actual characters. So, yeah, that's all I really have to say for now - stay tuned for the next chapter!


	3. Hi, Welcome to Chili's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet with your new boss to discuss the issue of your employment within Black Hat Organization, take a tour around the manor, meet a lizard lady and a bear, and find out that a certain eldritch doesn't exactly like your style of clothing. 
> 
> And clearly doesn't believe in privacy.

That low, gravelly rasp was familiar to your ears, memories from hours long since gone by accompanying it - none at all too pleasant as they resurfaced in your mind. With just your hearing alone, you could tell that he was grinning from ear to non-existent ear. There was a faint, yet still noticeable hint of amusement underlying his words, and it positively sent chills down your spine.

Looking back to Flug, who flashed you two quivering thumbs up in reassurance, you steeled yourself for what came next. Your fingers grasped the door handle and slowly but surely twisted it, until you heard a soft _‘click’_. The doors were old and heavy as you pushed them open, each one emitting a low groan from years of being in use without proper replacements, and your eyes immediately landed on the dark, tophat-clad figure sitting behind a desk in the very back of the room.

The executive chair he was seated upon looked more like a throne of velvet and dark oak than an actual office chair. His gloved hands rested upon a large, cherrywood desk, littered with curious knick-knacks and a golden name plate that spelled out _“BLACK HAT”_ in big, bold lettering, just in case a client was too much of a dunce to know who exactly they were meeting with, you supposed.

Black Hat’s smile grew more and more unnerving the longer that he eyed you, and he raised a single finger in your direction, bending the digits in a _‘come here’_ motion. Remembering what Flug said about Black Hat’s anger issues, you made it a priority to be as respectful as possible, so when he asked of something, you had to make sure to oblige as fast as humanly possible to satisfy the inhumanly impossible creature beckoning you forward.

Your feet moved slowly along the maroon carpet that lead like a sinister trail towards the desk at the end of the lofty chamber, and breaking away from his gaze as you recalled the scientist’s warning not to stare at him for too long at a time, you swallowed harshly, trying to quell the inklings of fear inside of you that grew with each passing second. When the edge of the desk was within an arm’s reach, you halted all movement, and you heard a cackle - low, and brimming with malice - right beside your ear. However, when you looked up, eyes widening at the unexpected assault on your sense of hearing, Black Hat remained seated leisurely upon his velvet throne, with an expression of feigned innocence smeared across his inky, ashen features.

 _“Please, by all means…”_ His voice contradicted his expression, as he addressed you in a tone so vile yet so elegant, your brain could barely make sense of his words, too distracted by contrasting, yet complementing tones mixed into the strange, toxic cocktail that was the vibrations of his vocal chords.  _“...Have a seat.”_

With a sharp snap of his fingers, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the booming clamor of the double-doors to the office slamming shut with inhuman speed, the force causing the framed photos and paintings hanging upon the walls to shake and clatter, threatening to fall from their hooks, and the objects atop his desk to vibrate intensely as though they were experiencing a mini earthquake.

From just outside the entrance, you heard a distant, muffled yelp from Flug, who must have been taken by surprise just as much as you were - if not even more. You didn’t have time to feel sorry for the poor guy, however, because the next second, a pair of shadowy, oozing tendrils wrapped around your form, pulling you into a seat that seemed to have materialized out of thin air behind you.

But you had to admit, it was surprisingly comfy.

The tendrils released you once you had been properly seated, and were dispelled in a poof of black smoke. Mouth agape with the lingering mixture of terror and shock surging through your body like small bolts of lightning, you didn’t even notice the change in atmosphere, as the temperature slowly decreased by several degrees, and the air grew dense, making it difficult to take each hasty breath into your lungs.

You were finally pulled from your trance at the sound of Black Hat’s voice grating against your ears once more.

“Let’s talk business now, _shall we?_ ” The eldritch’s grin, full of jagged, green teeth, widened even further, and he glanced at you with a deranged warmth now brewing in his visible eye.

Rather than speaking, as you did not know for certain if he had given you permission with that question and you wanted to avoid upsetting him as much as you possibly could, you merely nodded in reply. Black Hat clasped his hands together, fingers intertwining with one another and giving the illusion that he had more fingers than that of a normal person _… or was that actually the case?_

You shuddered as the constant paranoia reigning over your mental state began to make you doubt what was real and what were simply the conjurings of your imagination, and you fought to push those thoughts aside as the demon addressed you once more.

“Excellent. So, unless our dear Dr. Flug has gone against my wishes, allow me to be the first to inform you of the current situation that surrounds you and I,” his expression had twisted into one of amiable hospitality, but like before, his voice did not match the look on his face, and his tone grew even more menacing upon the word _“dear”_.

His visible eye transitioned from you to the far back wall, where Flug had and - if he kept his promise - still should be standing just behind the barrier, waiting for you to return. Black Hat’s gaze grew suspicious, and his grin drooped ever so slightly at the corners.

His intense glare remained fixated on the wall for several more seconds - and you swore for a brief moment you heard something rattle outside the double-doors, but you honestly couldn’t tell if it was real or just your mind playing tricks again - before his attention returned to you.

“Hmph, no matter,” that devilish grin had reanimated itself on his non-existent lips. “Well, (Name), congratulations - you’ve just been hired. Welcome to Black Hat Organization.”

Your eyes popped fully open in alarm at his words, and your jaw went slack for the second time in less than what could have only been two minutes. It wasn’t the fact that he told you of your new employment status that had taken you by surprise. No, you were already well aware of that, as Flug had informed you not even fifteen minutes ago, but the fact that Black Hat somehow knew _your name_ was beyond startling.

It gave you the creeps, because you had to ask yourself: _how the hell did he know your name?_

Black Hat grinned at you anew, this time much more sinisterly as he eyed you expectantly.

“Surprised? Don’t be. The moment you brandished that little blade and struck at me with all your pathetic might, my initials were branded on your very soul.”

Haven mistaken your initial shock as for the former reason, he let out a low cackle. A small cloud of inky black mist emerged from his hand like smoke rising from a billowing chimney and into the air, materializing into the dagger you vaguely recalled dropping in the alleyway just before you fainted, the tip still caked in a layer of dried blood. Feeling your stomach plummet as you watched him fiddle with it, dragging his gloved claws across the edge of the blade in a torturously slow up-and-down process, you trembled at his words. The terror and dread they aroused deep within your gut was a mixture of both his words and the tone he spoke them in.

They way he worded it made it sound as though you now belonged to him, like you were now reduced to nothing more than a piece of property to own and display for all to see, and honestly, you began to fear if this was actually the case. You never really believed in those tales of people selling their souls to the devil, but you began to wonder if in that moment, when you rammed the hilt of the dagger into the side of Black Hat’s cheek, that it acted as the signing of a contract, with your signature being written in the crimson ink of the blood belonging to the thug you had slashed with your blade.

Your attention was abruptly drawn back to the top hatted eldritch when he released the dagger with a force similar to when he slammed shut the doors to his office, the tip of the blade burying deeply in the surface of his desk, where you sat barely an inch away. Fight-or-flight instincts kicking in at what your brain processed as a threat, you pressed harder into the back your chair, trying to put some more distance between the eldritch and yourself.

Your brain was now screaming _‘flight’_ with unrelenting fervor, but instead of acting on your instincts, you dug the heels of your feet further into the carpeting, in an attempt to steel yourself in the inklings of courage you still had, though it was futile against the soul-crushing gaze Black Hat impaled you with.

“Your soul, your life, everything you are and could possibly be, are now forfeit to me, is that understood? Or do I need to make it _crystal clear_ for you?” Smiling evilly, Black Hat unsheathed the blade from its place in the cherrywood, jabbing it in front of your face accusingly. His glare was smoldering, and you shrunk back further in your seat.

“N-No, sir, I… I understand,” your voice was shaky and as squeaky as a mouse, but your answer seemed to satisfy him nonetheless, as the dagger dropped from his hand, clattering onto the desk with a noisy _‘thud’_ before being dispelled in a cloud of smoke.

“Splendid. Then let us go over the terms of your employment,” his vehement, psychotic tone was gone, and in its place was one of sophisticated poise as his monstrous, Cheshire cat-like grin calmed to the point of a simple smirk. Yet, that ominous look in his eye remained, firmly planted on you. “Firstly, as one of my personal henchmen, you will be residing here in the manor with me. You will have your own private chambers that will provide a much more lavish lifestyle than you are traditionally accustomed to - I have a few living quarters that have gone without use thus far, so just pick one of them as your own. Leaving the manor grounds is prohibited unless I have given specified authorization to do so - that being said, all necessities can be found here, so it is under special circumstances that you will ever be allowed to leave. Is that clear so far?”

Giving a firm nod to show that you understood, your heart sunk in your chest. So it really was as you had suspected - leaving the manor would be an occasion that would only happen once in a blue moon. Which, in turn, meant that you would have a slim chance of contacting the outside world, so you would probably never be able to see or hear from your family and friends ever again.

Well, that sure put a damper on things, didn’t it?

Black Hat interrupted your train of thought as he resumed his commentary of the rules governing your employment.

“Good. Now, as for work, until you can become of greater use to me, you will be taking on small chores around the manor. Cleaning, cooking, delivering tea to my office every morning, afternoon, and night - mediocre tasks such as that. I have greater plans for you, but until I am rest assured that you won’t lose your sanity in the process of adjusting to your new lifestyle, you will be stuck with these basic duties. Do not worry, though, you will have plenty of time for leisure until I can find more tasks to assign you. However, I expect this leisure time I have generously given you to be taken with no disturbance to the rest of us residing within the manor. So, for a lack of better words, unless it is _absolutely necessary_ , do not bug me or your coworkers during our work hours.”

You offered a small _“yes, sir”_ to the villain, and he hummed in approval.

“Lastly, I expect you to follow every instruction I give you down to the letter. I suppose I can forgive any small slip-ups for now - I understand those of your ilk aren’t the best when it comes to listening and such. _However_ , any willing resistance against me or my authority will not go without proper punishment, and I highly doubt you would want to experience my wrath. I believe you remember our pipe-wielding friend from earlier this morning, yes? _Always look back on the pathetic end to his miserable life if you ever feel like going against me._ ”

With his words, your mind flashed to the mutilated carcass that had been torn to shreds in the alleyway. Recalling as Black Hat toyed with the corpse’s exposed organs and bones made your gag reflex begin to act up, and just thinking about the grotesque display caused the nausea that had been subdued in the back of your throat to grow in power once more.

“Understood, sir,” you replied softly, and you looked up to meet the eldritch’s gaze.

His expression had gone completely blank, and he eyed you like a child that had grown bored of playing with a toy.

“Then we’re done here. You’re dismissed now,” Black Hat said nonchalantly, gloved hand gesturing in a _‘shoo’_ manner as his attention turned to newspaper that had been folded neatly on his desk.

You breathed a mental sigh of relief, standing from the chair you had been seated in and turning your back to the demon, walking back the way you had came. The chair disappeared in a black mist as soon as you stood from it, and once you were within arm’s reach of the wide, double-doors, you were stopped by the sound of Black Hat’s voice.

“Oh, and (Name)?”

Your head whipped around to face him, your hand grasping still the doorknob by just barely as your eyes met his visible one. “Yes, sir?”

He grinned sinisterly from behind the newspaper he had begun reading, his eye filled with some unidentifiable, psychotic emotion.

_“Don’t try to run.”_

His voice had returned to that impossible, toxic mixture of wickedness and sophistication, its assault on your eardrums toying and tugging at the corners of your mind as your brain tried desperately to process the two tones wrapped into one.

Giving a hurried nod, you opened the doors and hastily exited the office, being cautious as to not slam them behind you.

Just as he had promised, Flug was standing next to the doorway, and he gave you a look of optimism from behind the thick goggles he wore around his paper bag.

“T-That seemed to, uh, go well. Well, um, as good as one could, uh, expect from Black Hat, I mean,” the doctor remarked as he guided you down another of the winding hallways, your destination unbeknownst to you.

You gave him a small, nervous giggle. “Yeah, I guess so. He’s very… two-faced, if that’s even the correct term for him.”

“Oh t-trust me, that’s, uh, probably the best way I’ve ever heard s-someone put it. But, uh, honestly, when it comes to B.H., it’s more like, um, ten-faced than anything. He has, uh, pretty severe m-mood swings. One minute, he’s the calmest, most poised man you could ever meet, and the next… uh, n-not so much,” Flug, who was acting as your guide, brought you to the very end of the corridor that the two of you must have been walking down for at least a minute now, halting in front of a dark, wooden door. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in ages, and you could only guess as to the condition of the room it lead to.

Flug turned to you. “S-So, uh, this is where your room is. It’s a bit, uh, far away from the rest of the gang’s rooms, but, um, B.H. never exactly had a use for this one - it’s k-kinda acted as a guest bedroom - so I thought this would be a good room for you. It’s p-pretty spacey, but it has a bed, a-and even an en-suite bathroom! I t-think you’ll like it!”

 _An en-suite bathroom?_ So, this was the _“lavish lifestyle”_ Black Hat was talking about. Huh, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive! Thank you, Dr. Slys, I’ll be sure to check it out!” You flashed a smile that radiated appreciation at the scientist, and he gave a small wave of the hand in response.

“N-No problem, just, uh, thought it would help to get you s-settled in. Oh, and please, uh, just call me Flug. We’re, uh, coworkers now, so we don’t need to, um, worry about formalities anymore, right?”

You blinked a few times at his reply, before laughing awkwardly. You did suppose the constant use of formalities with the doctor would be a bit weird, considering you were both coworkers now. Plus, the poor guy was already neurotic enough as it was, so you didn’t want to add to that by making him even more uncomfortable with always addressing him by his title.

“Oh yeah, right! I, uh, suppose we are now,” you said, smile becoming faint, but still joyful nonetheless. “Okay then, Flug, I still can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. You’ve really helped to make this situation much more bearable.”

Flug glanced at you bewilderedly, and he let out an anxious chuckle from behind his bag, a new wave of sweat seeping from the pores of his neck. It was a bit gross, but you couldn’t blame the guy for being on edge all the time - you would be to if you were working for a literal demon with extreme anger issues and neverending mood swings. Wait… actually, now that you thought about it, you technically were now too. Where did you even plan on going with this?

“W-Well, I’m just, uh, d-doing what I, uh, c-can to help, y-yknow?” Flug shakily said, rubbing gingerly at the back of his bag-covered head. “H-Honestly, I’m quite s-surprised with, um, how w-well you’ve been h-handling everything. I t-thought you were, uh, g-gonna start b-breaking down in the lab right then and there, but y-you just shook it off l-like it was nothing! T-That’s, um, pretty amazing, honestly.”

Now it was your turn to fidget awkwardly.

“Heh, yeah, I guess. I mean, sure - getting kidnapped and being forced to work for a big, bad villain ain’t exactly great, but it’s better to look on the bright side of things! I mean, he could have killed me if he wanted, and in my book, being dead is a lot worse than working for a villain. So, might as well be happy that I’m still alive, yeah?”

You clasped your hands together nervously, looking away from the scientist. It still stung quite a lot, knowing that this was your new life now - having to serve the most heinous villain to ever walk the earth without a chance of ever escaping - but you still had a life, and that’s what’s important. All you had to do was stay strong, and soon you would be over it.

“Y-You definitely have a, uh, good point there,” Flug commented, leaning against the wall. “But, y-you know, being a villain isn’t all that b-bad either. I know you p-probably have a more, uh, pro-hero mindset and want to keep it, but, hey, why not give villainy a shot w-while you can still make that decision?”

Taking in his words, you pondered them carefully. While it was true that you found yourself leaning more towards doing good than bad, as such was the way with the desperate heroes of Hatsville trying to keep civilians from turning to evil in anyway they could, you honestly never really gave it much thought before. You decided later on, once you could relax for the rest of the day, you would do some serious soul-searching.

“Hmm, you know, Flug, you might just be right,” you giggled lightheartedly, and the scientist eyed you a bit oddly from behind his goggles.

Seconds later, eyes now alight with a new curiosity, you piped up once more.

“Hey, I hate to be a bother, but if you could continue showing me around - at least the most important parts of the manor - that’d be great. Might as well get to know my surroundings so I don’t get lost later on.”

If Black Hat expected you to go about cleaning and whatnot, you should at least know where to go about your cleaning duties, as well as the supplies to clean with. Maybe you should have asked for directions before you left his office, but you didn’t want to push your luck with him so soon. Besides, Flug seemed like a good enough tour-guide.

“Oh, y-yeah, of course! That’s not a problem at all,” Flug said, standing from his leaning position against the wall. “You, uh, already know where the lab and m-main staircase are, but, uh, I can show you the, um, kitchen, dining area, living room - all that stuff.”

Flug once more guided you down the many hallways throughout the manor, passing by the towering doors to Black Hat’s office, and down the wide staircase to the entrance hall. Off to the side was a small doorway in the very back of the hall, and when Flug took you through it, the room was revealed to be the kitchen.

It was rather large for a kitchen, but you supposed it was to be expected with a manor as grand as Black Hat’s. The cabinets were made from a dark wood, and the counters appeared to be made similarly. Everything from the fridge to the stove looked severely outdated, like they were straight from a different era. However, when Flug told you that they were the best technology money could buy at the time, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“W-Well, of course they, uh, didn’t c-come that way,” the scientist began, fingers tapping against the wooden counter-tops. “I, uh, a-adjusted them as needed, of course. One of the many advantages to being, um, highly trained in engineering science. N-Not to - uh - to b-boast, though!”

You glanced back at him, eyes filled with awe. “Wow, that’s… _amazing_ , Flug! No wonder the boss hired you!”

With the paper bag covering pretty much preventing all possible ways nonverbal communication, you couldn’t tell if he was flattered by your compliment or just made plain uncomfortable by it. But, either way, it seemed like normal Flug behavior, as he shifted slightly from his position against the counter.

“E-Eh, well, uh... thanks?”

He clearly didn’t know how to respond, but that was fine by you. In fact, you kind of wanted to apologize for putting him in a situation he didn’t know to to come back from, but you knew that if you did, it would only make it even more awkward than it already was, so you kept your mouth shut after that.

Flug guided you to the dining area off the side of the kitchen. Like you had come to expect from Black Hat, it was as elegant, yet as dark and gothic as the rest of the manor - save for Flug’s lab, of course. This time, however, the wallpaper was a deep shade of vermilion instead of forest green, and a large, sparkling chandelier lit up the room. Beneath the chandelier was a long dining table that took up most of the room, with a few dining chairs spread widely about the table. You couldn’t tell if the scarcity of chairs was just because there weren’t that many people living in the manor, or if Black Hat simply didn’t like people sitting too close to him.

Speaking of your boss, at the very end of the table lied a chair much grander than the rest. Unlike its closely-related cousins, this chair was made of a noticeably darker wood, and had intricate designs painstakingly carved into it. While the other chairs were simply made of wood, there was padding lining the back and seat of the chair, which looked to be of the same velvet material that decorated the throne Black Hat’s office, and the armrests were much wider than the others, also covered in the same velvet padding.

Well, you could definitely take a sure guess as to whose chair that was.

You jotted down a mental note to never sit in it, no matter what.

After you gave the room a good look-over, burning it and its location into the back of your mind so that you could form a mental map of the place, the scientist escorted you to the next area. Reaching said area involved climbing back up the large staircase in the entrance hall and through another long, narrow corridor.

You never really thought about it, but you noticed as Flug guided you to your next destination that every single one of these winding corridors had no lights whatsoever, though you supposed this was because if there were light fixtures on the walls, people would only bump into them as they passed through the slim hallways. You began to wonder if there had even been lights on the walls, but had to be removed because Black Hat kept bumping into them and knocking the hat off his head.

The mental image of an angry Black Hat yelling at Flug to remove all the lights in every corridor during a hissy fit made you giggle softly, which caused Flug to briefly glance in your direction.

“It’s nothing. Just a silly thought that popped into my mind,” you offered an excuse to your strange behavior, still giggling to yourself. Flug shot you another curious glance, but took your word and returned to facing directly ahead of himself.

Eventually you reached a wide, open doorway that was illuminated by what you assumed to be a TV screen, some of the light seeping into the hallway and acting as its solitary light-source.

Wow, so there _were_ modern forms of entertainment in this place! Just when you had been beginning to lose hope!

Besides the noise from the TV, there was some soft chatter coming from a feminine voice, accompanied by a peculiar whimpering noise that sounded like it belonged to an animal of some kind.

Flug stopped you just outside the doorway, turning to face you.

“Ah, w-well this is the, uh, perfect time to meet your other coworkers. Just to, um, warn you b-beforehand, one of them is a bit… touchy-feely, obnoxious, and, uh, in all h-honesty, completely insane. The other is, uh, well... you’ll see in a moment.”

Leaving you with that rather vague wording, Flug then poked his head into the room, knocking on the door-frame to catch the attention of the room’s occupants.

“H-Hey guys, we got some, uh, new company that I want you to meet,” he said, projecting his voice so it could be heard over the sound of the television. The doctor gestured for you to enter as he walked in, and you complied, following close behind him.

Sitting on a large, maroon sofa was a woman and a giant, blue bear with a small, yellow flower sprouting from the top of its head. You weren’t going to say it was the strangest thing you’ve ever seen, but it was definitely up on the list.

The woman had two-toned, bright neon hair, with her bangs being a fluorescent hot-pink and the longer tresses dyed a yellowish-green. Or was it greenish-yellow? You honestly couldn’t tell. Her outfit looked like it came straight from Hot Topic, and she had an odd hood on the back of her navy, sleeveless hoodie that was in the shape of a lizard’s head.

She gazed at you intensely, eyes as mismatched as the clothes she wore, with one iris being an odd, yellow color, and the other seeming to have no iris at all, instead just a small, black pupil. Considering the fact that her stare darted quickly to different points on your body, and she looked like she was ready to pounce at any given moment, you could only assume that this was the crazy one Flug warned you about.

After sizing you up for several more moments, she turned back to Flug.

“Who're they supposed to be?” Her words exited past her lips nonchalantly, mouth situated in a half-smile with a small fang protruding from the corner.

“D-Demencia, don’t be rude! They're our new coworker - their name is, uh…” Flug turned back to you, trying to place a name to your face. It was then that you realized you had never actually told him your name.

After a couple moments of awkward silence, the lizard girl, who was apparently named Demencia, bursted out laughing, rolling over into the bear’s lap, who had been looking on in curiosity.

“Pfft, they're our new coworker and you don’t even know their _name_?! You’re such an antisocial nerd, Flug!” She managed to call out between her laughing fits, and Flug breathed an irritated exhale, palming his bag-covered face and letting out a muffled retort.

It didn’t take a genius to see that these two were polar opposites, so before an argument could inevitably break out, you decided to step in, walking over to the sofa and offering the deranged woman your hand.

“I’m (Name). It’s a pleasure to meet you, Demencia,” you said, trying to maintain a steady tone that wasn’t plagued by amusement at the scene.

Her giggles stopped, and she eyed your hand suspiciously before breaking out into another fit of laughter only seconds later, taking your hand in hers with an uncomfortably tight grip. “(Name)! That’s such a weird name! I like you already - are we keeping them, Flug?!”

Though slightly offended by her words, you decided to let it slide, offering the woman a small smile in return.

“Yep, I’m now a permanent member of the organization. In fact, I just got done talking with the boss not that long ago. Flug’s been showing me around the place.”

“That’s right,” Flug cut in, staring Demencia down as she continued to cackle and snort in the giant bear’s lap. “So, if you could _please_ show (Name) some respect - and _get off_ of 5.0.5 - that'd be great.”

His tone was harsh as he spoke to her, and you noticed his stuttering was gone. Maybe it comes and goes depending on his emotions. He did seem pretty irritated with Demencia right now, though you hoped their interactions with each other didn’t always go like this.

Demencia stuck her tongue out at the scientist, but complied with him, rolling of the bear’s - or 5.0.5’s, as you heard Flug call it - lap and returning to her original spot on the sofa.

Her tongue was still lolling out of her mouth when she spoke up again. “Okie-dokie, Flugsy! So, (Name), what’s your gig here now?”

“Oh, I’m kinda like the housekeeper, I suppose,” you replied, finally being able to tug yourself free of her hold now that it had loosened significantly. “Black Hat said he’s gonna try to find a better use for me soon, but until then, I cook and clean. Just basic housework like that for now.”

“Oh hey, it looks like 5.0.5 has a new friend! We should get you guys matching maid outfits! Fives already has one, so all we gotta do is get one for (Name) and then - _BOOM!_ the housekeeping duo!” Demencia started up once more with her cackling, and 5.0.5 looked downright uncomfortable with the conversation topic. Though, you couldn’t blame it - _him?_ \- as you were beginning to grow uneasy as well.

“Uh, I think I’ll pass on that,” you said meekly, the thought of prancing about the manor in a frilly maid outfit for all to see flashing embarrassingly through your mind. Yeah, there was _no way_ you would ever allow that to happen in a million years.

Demencia let out a final giggle before collapsing tiredly, her body limp on the sofa cushions. “Fine, whatever floats your boat - though I think it would be cute!”

Flug piped up once more.

“Oh, right! (Name), this is 5.0.5! He’s an experiment of mine!” He said, gesturing to the giant, cyan bear, who stared at you with big, curious eyes. You stepped closer to the creature, offering him a kind smile, which he returned in full.

How adorable!

“A _failed_ experiment, Fluggy,” Demencia cut in on the moment, which caused 5.0.5 to hang his head in shame and Flug to grow angry yet again.

“Why you…!” Was all he muttered as he pointed a shaky finger in the woman’s direction, his other hand patting the bear’s back reassuringly. Demencia just shrugged, muttering something along the lines of _“just sayin”_.

With Flug now fuming at Demencia, and 5.0.5 disheartened by her words, you decided you would have to change the subject - _and fast_ \- before a real fight broke out then and there.

You placed your hand on the bear’s arm, tenderly petting through his soft, cyan fur and giving him a now beaming smile. “Well, I think he’s wonderful, no matter if he’s an experiment or not.”

5.0.5 looked up at you in appreciation, letting out a soft _“baw!”_ sound, and Flug glanced over at you admirably.

“Thank you, (Name),” the doctor said, letting out a relieved sigh before he turned back to Demencia. “I’m glad someone here actually has basic human decency and respect for life!”

“Flug, human decency is for _suckers_ \- and villains ain’t sucking anything! Heroes do the sucking-”

Flug cut her off before she could finish speaking.

“Demencia, before you finish that sentence - because I _know_ where you’re going with it - _please don’t._ ”

The woman gave him a look of feigned innocence, before letting out a quick giggle, her attention turning back to the movie playing on the television screen in front of her. “Whatevez! C’mon, Fives, this is where it starts getting good!”

Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Flug guided you out of the room, stepping back out into the hallway.

“So, uh, that’s the rest of the gang,” he said as the two of you walked back towards the stairs. ”Demencia can be a bit much sometimes, but she means well - uh, actually, no, not really. Not at all. 5.0.5 is the one that means well. In fact, um, he’s probably the least evil thing to ever exist. That’s why Demencia called him a failure, but uh, hey, he’s a success in my book!”

You offered him a reassuring smile. “I thought he was absolutely adorable! Who cares if he’s not what you intended to make? I think the fact that you created a creature as complex as 5.0.5 is pretty amazing!”

“Heh, thanks,” he replied, walking down the staircase with you. He halted in front of the metal door to his lab, turning to face you. “Uh, now that I’ve shown you around a bit, I need to get back to work before the b-boss finds out I’ve been taking time off. I, um, don’t think he expects you to start work until t-tomorrow, so, uh, you can join me if you want, or you can, uh, go to your r-room and start settling in. The choice is, uh, up to you.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll head back to my room and check it out, but I might stop by later on,” you explained, giving the scientist a small wave as you headed back towards the stairs. “See ya, Flug!”

The scientist waved back, exchanging a goodbye with you before heading into the lab, the metal door automatically closing behind him. Now on your own, you had to navigate the manor by memory, but hopefully the mental map you had created during your tour would aid you.

You recalled which corridors lead to where, and you took a right once you reached the platform at the top of the stairs, remembering that as the way to Black Hat’s office, and also your room further down the hall. Luckily, it seemed your memory was serving you well, because within a minute’s time you reached the dark, ominous double-doors leading to the eldritch’s office.

Walking past the towering doors - though unconsciously speeding up your pace ever so slightly -  you made your way through the winding halls and eventually ended up in front of the old, wooden door to your room. However, something caught your curiosity right off the bat.

The door was now slightly ajar, a sliver of light creeping out from crack and into the dim hallway. Funny, you don’t remember Flug opening it earlier. Giving the door a light push with your hand, you winced as the old hinges creaked, emitting shrill wails from what had to be years upon years without use.

You’d have to ask Flug to oil them for you later.

When you stepped inside, you were surprised to find the lights were already on, illuminating the room for you to see. Well, it was definitely dusty, that was for damn sure. Everything from the red-tinted windows to the scattered surfaces throughout the chamber were covered in a thick layer of dust, and the air was stale and dirty, making it hard for you to breathe and your throat begin to itch.

The furniture, though scarce and certainly required some cleaning, was of dignified taste. Just like the rest of the manor, it appeared to be from an era long since past, and considering Black Hat was an age-old eldritch, you wouldn’t be surprised if this was the real deal. If you ever got the chance, you would make sure to ask him about the manor's history sometime.

The walls were the same forest green color as the wallpaper in the hallways, but unlike the walls outside the room, these ones were completely barren of painting or photos. That was fine with you though - having a painting of Black Hat stare at you as you went to sleep at night wasn’t exactly the most appealing thing in the world, after all.

However, what was most surprising was that there was something on the bed in the corner of the room. It looked like a black lump at first, but when you approached it, you found it to be a set of clothing folded neatly in a stack atop the corner of the bed, with a small, yellow sticky note placed on the very top of the pile. It simply read, _“Wear this - BH”_ in cursive lettering that nearly looked like it could have been copied and pasted from a computer font, if not for the slight smearing of black ink on the _‘H’_.

Huh, so that explained why the door had been opened and lights left on. Black Hat had paid a visit to your new room not too long ago. Wait, he wasn’t with you when Flug brought you here earlier - how did he know you had chosen this room as your bedroom? Okay, maybe it was time to stop asking questions and just roll with it, as creepy as it was. All this thinking was making your headache return with a vengeance.

Setting the note aside on the bedside table, you unraveled the pile of clothes, and were immediately taken aback in pure awe.

The first article of clothing looked to be a black coat, not unlike Black Hat’s, except this one was much more Victorian Gothic in terms of style. It wasn’t completely black either, with a few green and silver accents lining both the interior and exterior. It even had some green lacing on the back, where the small tails of the coat began. The soft, black fabric was embroidered with a faint, yet elegant pattern, twisting and turning in every which way in an intricate design that was stunning to your eyes. While the coat was certainly the most impressive article, there was also a white, button-up undershirt, a pair of black pants, some dark grey gloves, and a black pair of boots placed beside the bed, all seeming to go together in a matching set.

While you were still unnerved by the fact that Black Hat had broken into your room, this gift certainly made up for it.

Though you were certain the boss would tell you differently if you asked about it, you decided to call it a gift. It was given to you free of charge, so that’s the wording you would go with. Maybe you could even call it an apology for tearing apart and eating a corpse right in front of your very eyes too. But maybe that was pushing it. This _was_ Black Hat after all, and you doubted _‘gifts’_ or _‘apologies’_ were either of his things.

As excited as you were to try your new clothes on, you decided to hold off on that for now.

So far today, you had been involved in two chases for your life, assaulted, kidnapped, and forced to enter the establishment of a retired, higher-up villain with an infatuation for tophats. All of these events had occurred in less than eight hours, and now that you finally had time to take a breather, you realized just how _disgusting_ you felt. You had been sweating like a pig during your two run-ins with death, and your hair still must have been wild from when you fell on the ground during your fainting session.

How did you even allow yourself to meet with Black Hat and your coworkers without demanding a proper bath first?

Well, it looked like it was time to check out that en-suite bathroom Flug mentioned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! I spent most of the night writing this chapter (blame my insomnia for that), but I'm happy that I was able to actually write for an extended period of time without many breaks in-between. I also found out during the process of writing this that I'm not very good at describing clothing, or furniture for that matter, but hey, what can you do? 
> 
> I kinda felt like BH would want to keep his servants in check, so I decided changing their style of clothing would be a good way to go about it - at least in the reader's case. I didn't really have a reference for the outfit BH gives the reader, I simply liked the idea of something sorta Gothic Victorian, since I felt it would fit in with the whole "dreary, old-timey manor" setting. So anyways, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! I definitely went a bit overboard with this one, as this chapter alone is over 7000 words, but I couldn't help myself. I'm gonna try to get the next chapter out with 2-3 days, but honestly, my brain is a bit fried from writing all night, so it may take an extra day to get out. But anyways, I'll try to take a break and then get onto the writing the fourth chapter! Stay tuned for now!


	4. A Sound Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions dwindle to nothingness, draining into a bleak grey, and the world becomes duller. But, isn't it better to see the world in blissful, empty monotone than its true colors?
> 
> A certain eldritch horror seems to think so.

The human mind was a curious thing.

But then again, you supposed humans in general were peculiarities in and of themselves. They could speak one thing, but then go back on their words and do another. Of course, the situation depended entirely on the intention of the individual in question.

The mind wasn’t always reliable. Throughout the course of a day, countless thoughts were forgotten, pushed aside to the very corners of the mind and stored away to make room for other thoughts and ideas that required a greater priority, only to be brought out of storage once their memory was triggered to resurface, whether that trigger be an event similar to the thing having been forgotten or simply the clearing of the mind. This flawed, prioritized system the human mind frequently used often lead to broken promises and the like.

While it still was a clear contradiction, technically speaking, to do something else when the spoken word promised a different course of action, it was not intentional, and therefore, blame could not be placed on the individual who had gone back on their word. But if it _was_ intentional, then proper judgment could be delivered, deeming the individual a _‘liar’_ and _‘untrustworthy’_ , or even _‘unreliable’_.

But was that not a proper word to describe the human mind? _Unreliable?_

Were humans not liars - untrustworthy and unreliable?

This was the situation you currently found yourself in.

Despite having promised Flug that you would stop by the lab to accompany him in his work once you had gone about settling into your new residence, that never happened. It hadn’t been intentional. At least, not at first.

After the discovery of the _‘gift’_ on your bed - which you were still deciding to call it that, because there truly was no better term for it, unless _‘wear-this-so-you-fit-in-with-the-rest-of-us’_ was an actual term, which was something you highly doubted - you had made it your top priority to cleanse your body of the old sweat, dirt, and grime that had collected throughout the course of the day.

Luckily, having an en-suite bathroom aided in this process, and you were able to go about taking a shower in the peace of your own room, without having to worry about anyone poking their head into the bathroom announced. Within no time at all, you had been properly cleaned, hair tamed from its previously wild state and your freshly scrubbed skin wonderfully scented thanks to the bar of soap you found while digging through the medicine cabinet.

Without a hairdryer to speed up the process of drying your hair, you had left it to dry naturally with the occasional help of a towel, rubbing through it from time to time to soak up any excess moisture. While you waited for all water to evaporate from your tresses, you set about taking that time to try on your new attire.

Though the fact that it was exactly your size raised some alarm - as the only way for that to be possible was if the eldritch had found the time to get your measurements - you were more absorbed by how it complimented you perfectly.

Everything from the coat, the undershirt, the slacks, the boots, to even the gloves suited you well, adding a nice touch without even being the traditional attire from the era the outfit was based off. Not to mention the intricate details and patterns donning the coat made it seem all the more poised, blending with the rest of the outfit to give you an air of refined elegance. And, while you would never admit it aloud, black suited you, much to your surprise.

You supposed it would not be all _that_ terrible if Black Hat seized control over what you wore from now on. For a demon, his sense of fashion was certainly tasteful, that was for damn sure.

You must have spent at least a good five minutes looking yourself over in the bathroom mirror - your confidence and self-esteem skyrocketing further upwards the longer that you gazed at your reflection - before you were finally able to look away, pulling yourself from your vain trance.

When you checked the time on your phone, the digital clock displayed _‘10:34 AM’_ , meaning it had been just about eight hours since this entire ordeal began. It humbled you in a way, bringing on a wave of somber realization of just how much had drastically changed since two o’clock that morning. It was weird to think that not that long ago, you were just a normal citizen - an average, decent human being just trying to get on with their life without getting it taken away in the process.

But now, well... that’s exactly what had happened.

Your life, though not literally, had been taken - snatched away from you by a gloved, clawed hand and replaced with an entirely new one. You were now nothing but a twisted caricature of what you had once been, in a reality that you would have only expected to exist in a parallel universe.

But the universe, as you learned, had a weird way of fucking with people.

It did not _need_ to be parallel to throw everything you once knew on its head, turning it completely upside down. No, no - all it needed was a top-hatted eldritch with vile, grand ambitions and dark influences to transform your world into a demented parody of itself.

You should have been losing your mind over this. This was not a normal thing - not even for a city like Hatsville! You had been kidnapped by none other than _Black Hat_ , who had slaughtered and partially consumed a carcass right in front of your very eyes, and then, merely a couple hours later, you discussed an opportunity for employment with him. And now, here you were, having already accepted your fate and deciding to go with the flow from here on out.

It stung at first, that was no lie.

The realization that you were now a forced servant of Black Hat had dug deeply into your heart, and it left wounds of despair and hopelessness in its terrible wake. But then - but _now_! Now, it was like they had miraculously healed in the span of only a few hours. Those wounds were gone, and you were left with a strange feeling that could only be described as emptiness.

There was no sorrow, no rage, no pity for yourself - not even the optimism you had tried to convince yourself was there before. There was simply nothing left for you to feel. It was like you were an empty shell now - a mere husk. By gaining the dark, yet elegant outfit you now donned on your husk, you lost what was inside. Your exterior was a series of black and white shades, but your interior was now completely and utterly _grey_.

Actually, now that you thought about it, maybe you _did_ lose your mind. It would make sense, considering you were currently trying to describe your emotions with _shades_ , but still, you supposed feeling _grey_ was significantly better than feeling _blue_.

However, you wished the shades and colors would just go away already, as they were beginning to make you uncomfortable.

To take your mind off the seemingly gaping hole where your heart - and possibly also your mind - had once been, you decided to do what any person would do when they got kidnapped.

And that was to delete every single contact from your contacts list.

It wasn’t like you would be needing them anymore. If you were going to start your life over as one of Black Hat’s personal goons, you would need to tie up any loose ends connecting you to your previous life. So, you did just that, starting the tedious process of removing all the contacts you had saved in your phone over the years.

Okay, maybe it was a _little bit_ heart-wrenching, watching as your friends and family were deleted both figuratively and literally from your life as well as your phone, but those pangs of melancholy ebbed away almost as swiftly as they had came.

Once you hit the _‘delete’_ option on the final contact, gazing at the loading bar that flashed onto the screen before the contact labeled _‘Mom’_ was erased from your phone forever, you clicked the small, rectangular mechanism off with the press of a switch on the side, placing it on the bedside table and flopping haphazardly onto the plush mattress.

Yeah, you were definitely beginning to get the feeling that this wasn’t a normal reaction to your current situation. Perhaps you should talk to Flug about all this. Although he was a scientist, there was a chance he could still help you figure out what the hell was going on with you.

Speaking of Flug, didn’t you say you would meet up with him after you got settled into your new room?

As tempted as you were to actually keep good on your word and rejoin him in the lab, that empty, grey feeling prevented you from lifting yourself off the bed. It was heavy now, having settled deep in your chest and acting like a physical weight, as though someone had placed a bowling ball atop your chest.

Okay, whatever this weird feeling was, you really didn’t like it, and quite frankly, you wanted it to leave you alone already. You were honestly beginning to think that you liked your paranoia better.

Rolling over onto your side to face away from the light, you allowed your eyelids to shut, and your vision was engulfed in darkness.

Maybe if you got some sleep, that grey feeling would be gone by the time you woke up.

With that thought in mind, you allowed your attention to drift away from your emotions - or lack of, in better words - your focus shifting to your breathing as you slowly inhaled and exhaled.

Within no time at all, your consciousness faded away to that familiar, pitch-black void, and you returned to the realm of blissful slumber once more.

**\------ ~~~ ------**

_Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock._

_Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock._

_Tick..._

_Tock..._

The clock above the metal door continued its maddening rhythm, hands slowly ticking away at the time displayed - _1:12 AM_.

The lab was shrouded in shadow, overhead lights having been turned off to signal the end of its opening hours, but at the very back of the facility, a solitary fixture remained lit. The golden light washed across the workbench, illuminating the metal scraps, nuts and bolts, and equipment littered about its surface.

A gloved hand reached for the freshly filled mug of coffee off to the side, positioning it just beneath its owner’s chin so the straw slid easily up through the paper covering, allowing the scientist to sip away at the caffeinated beverage without lifting his mask.

The bitter liquid was washed swiftly down his throat, fueling his caffeine addiction and keeping his mind and body alert. After draining the mug of its contents to the point where his thirst was quenched and his need for caffeine sated, he set it back in spot on the corner of the workbench and began his work once more.

Once again, due to another request - or rather, demand - from Black Hat, Flug had to shift his priorities from the Anti-Gravity Device to another, more minuscule invention that had been appointed to him. Although his loyalty to the eldritch remained unwavering, he was beginning to question his boss’s motives.

“I just don’t see why this is needed…” His musing echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the metal-plated walls and ebbing away into the silence, save for the soft hum being emitted from the nearby ventilation system. From behind his crooked goggles, he glared down at the metal object in his hand as he joined the two curved plates together with the securing of their bolts.

It was the outer shell of an ankle monitor, or at least, that was what it appeared to be. It would have a few other functions in addition to its main ones, but they were of little interest in comparison. Truthfully, it was more of a hybrid between an ankle monitor and a tracking device. Once placed around its target’s ankle, not only would their every movement and location be tracked, but their emotions could also be transmitted and monitored, a function that aroused much suspicion to those with less malicious lifestyles.

He had gone through the process of creating one before, as Demencia wore a similar one around her ankle. Whenever a large spike in the transmission of her emotional range was detected, the monitor would send a small electrical shock throughout her body, in order to put her back into a calm- _er_ state, emphasis on the _‘er’_.

Detaining Demencia’s psychotically-induced emotions was tedious task, and between this and tracking her location at all times, her ankle monitor’s battery wore down at an alarming quick rate, causing Flug to have to replace it nearly every week. In fact, he pondered, the estimated date for another battery change was fast approaching. He made a mental note to prepare another batch of tranquilizing serum for when Demencia would be without her emotional restrictions.

Letting out a huff, Flug returned his attention to the mechanism in his hand, continuing to tighten the bolts so the plates could not separate under intense strain, should it occur. While he would not skim over adding the shock function to this one, he hoped it would remain dormant, for both his sake and (Name)’s as well.

He simply could not follow along with the demon’s reasoning. While it was true that the new recruit was exactly that - _new_ \- he doubted this status would lead to any higher risk of attempted escape.

Since they had awoken from their passed out state early yesterday morning, they remained perfectly docile, complying with both Black Hat and himself without any resistance whatsoever. It was admittedly alarming, how well they took the news of their fate - even going on to say they would make the most out their current situation.

How someone could even begin to see a bright side to such a gloomy position flabbergasted him. They couldn’t have been truthful, could they? It would take a person with extreme optimism - that, or plain insanity - to remain at peace with such a situation as the one they were in.

Maybe that was it. They couldn’t be completely content with all this. No, there had to be more to them than they were letting on. A person can’t just accept such a dreadful, terrible fate as the one they had received without at least _some_ sorrow. Maybe they were crazy like Demencia, but hid it behind that beaming smile of theirs.

Flug understood that there were many different types of ways of how insanity affected people, though they probably weren't completely deranged. Perhaps something happened to them that caused them to see the world a bit more of a stable, yet demented light--

**_Wait!_ **

In discovery of the revelation that hit him like a harsh slap to the side of the face, Flug slammed down the mechanism onto the wooden surface of the workbench, the force impacting the small screws, nuts, and bolts around it and causing them to vibrate with intensity, and the coffee to slosh against the walls of its container. His head darted upwards and across the room, roughly in the position of where Black Hat’s office would be located upstairs.

It wasn’t that they were happy, sad, or even crazy - Black Hat was _influencing_ their emotions, causing their mind to portray their situation much differently than a normal person would see it. He was suppressing the fear and panic that should have been surging wildly through them and giving them a new way of seeing things. They weren't optimistic or sorrowful about anything, because they couldn’t _feel_ anything! Black Hat was simply influencing them to see their situation in a neutral lighting!

Once Flug was able to gain control over his impulses, he relaxed his tense muscles, though his gaze remained fixated in the spot it had been in. He was merely looking up at the gleaming metal of the ceiling, but he wanted to think he was looking past the barrier and into Black Hat’s office, where the demon most likely still was, signing paperwork and whatnot.

He suddenly understood why his boss wanted him to make the device. For now, the eldritch had been keeping a firm hold over their emotions, preventing any panic-induced, hostile actions to be taken on their part, as well as any thoughts or plans of escape.

As powerful as Black Hat was - being a malevolent entity of many mysteries and unimaginable horrors that not even a brilliant mind such as Flug’s could decipher - the scientist knew his power over the recruit could not last forever. He would eventually become strained from his constant influence over them, and his power would be exhausted sooner or later.

Flug knew then and there that he could not allow Black Hat to be the main source of influence over them for much longer. Should the eldritch continue to influence them until his power was dwindled to nothing, that sudden disruption of emotional suppression over (Name) would most likely cause all the detained panic, fear, and aggression towards their containment to erupt violently within them, and they would begin to experience extraordinarily high levels of mental unstableness and hostility.

The consequences of that would most likely result in not only injury to Flug and his coworkers, but also quite possibly death for (Name), as Black Hat would not think twice about exterminating any vexations.

That thought sent a violent shudder throughout Flug, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the mental image his mind presented him with, of a deranged (Name) being slaughtered for emotions they could not control, and dying a horrid death that they did not deserve.

He could imagine all the blood splattered about the walls and floor, staining them a deep shade of crimson that gleamed ominously in the light of the overhead fixtures. Worse of all though, at the center of the vivid mental creation was the source of the blood, the mangled corpse of someone who once held such promise, now lying dead in their own exposed and leaking gore, with a bloody Black Hat looming over their carcass.

What disturbed him was the fact that he could imagine it so vividly. It sent shivers down his spine and triggered his gag reflex just imagining the scenario.

The mad scientist banged his free hand onto the table, hoping the pain would distract him from that horrendous image created in his mind’s eye. Luckily, it did just that, and he let out a pained hiss through his teeth, followed by a soft string of curses. Once the pain had numbed to only a slight ache, he picked up the mechanism that had been unceremoniously thrown on the workbench, fingering the square-shaped indent on the internal part of the metal casing, where the tracking chip would go.

Slowly, he breathed out a tired sigh, eyes softening behind his goggles.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

**\------ ~~~ ------**

It wasn’t until around two hours later that Flug glanced back at the clock, the skin of his neck glistening with sweat.

_3:26 AM._

How long had he been awake? It must have been at least a week by now since he last properly slept. But, he supposed, the better question would be, _“how long has (Name) been asleep?”_

He recalled making his way down to their room when they hadn’t shown up in the lab like they promised they would once they settled in, but was surprised to find that their door was wide open and the lights were still on. However, he didn’t hear any movement coming from inside the room, which puzzled him at first.

He felt rude for intruding, but he wanted to make sure if they were actually there and not off roaming around somewhere else. Peeking his bagged head inside the doorway, his eyes scanned the room for any signs of life, stopping when they landed on a black blob sprawled across the bed in the far corner of the room.

He didn’t recognize them at first, the change in attire having thrown him off, but he quickly came to the realization that the change of appearance must have been Black Hat’s doing. His suspicions were confirmed when he slowly crept to their bedside and found the sticky note signed with the initials _‘B.H.’_ , and he cracked a hidden smile.

It was a common thing for Black Hat to be controlling over his minions, but forcing them to change their attire was something new. He usually didn’t care what anyone wore, as long as it didn’t affect their work performance, so why he had taken an interest in (Name)’s clothing of choice was rather odd behavior of him.

Maybe Black Hat just didn’t like sweatpants.

Flug placed the note back in its original spot and eyed the sleeping body, who was now decked out in formal, elegant attire, similar to Black Hat’s. Although, if he was correct on his study of history, the clothing they now wore was more Victorian styled than the eldritch’s, and contained a greater amount of detail than the simple red, black, grey, and white of Black Hat’s attire.

The scientist jumped back at the sound of a particularly loud snore from (Name), though his alarm quickly turned to amusement as he tried hard to suppress a laugh. Immediately afterwards he left, though not before shutting off the lights and closing the door behind him, as he had gotten the information he sought.

He honestly couldn’t blame them for passing out on their bed, he had been wanting to do the exact same thing all week. Plus, going through this entire ordeal must have put them under a lot of emotional strain, so he decided it would be best to let them sleep.

If only he had known the truth then, that they had been under no mental suffering due to Black Hat’s dark influence.

Sighing, he shook that recollection away and gazed down at the now finished device in his hands. It was all set and ready to go, now all that was needed was to secure it around its target.

He knew what he had to do.

Device in hand, he stood from his stool, limping slightly as he walked due to one of his feet having fallen asleep sometime during their hours without use. He usually made it a habit to tap his feet from time to time while he was working to keep his limbs from going numb, but had gotten so focused in finishing the tracking device that he forgot to do so. Oh well, he’ll just have to deal with the uncomfortable tingling in his leg until it regained proper circulation.

The bulky door detected his presence and opened automatically for him, and Flug entered the foyer, the echo of his steps followed by the soft slam of the door behind him as it closed, once his presence could no longer be detected in the motion detector’s range. Once stomping his half-asleep foot onto the polished floor in an attempt to gain some more control over it, Flug slid the device underneath his arm and made his way up the stairs.

Now that the manor’s inhabitants had retired to their rooms to sleep the night away - besides Black Hat and himself, of course - very few lights remained lit, leaving the halls in almost total darkness. Flug had to walk at a slow, steady pace, using his free hand to feel the walls, so he would know when to turn a corner.

Navigating the winding corridors of the manor in nearly pitch-black lighting was a challenge, especially when he was plagued by a small limp due to his still numb foot and one of his hands was occupied, but after a few minutes of wandering, stumbling, and bumping haphazardly into walls, he finally reached his destination.

Halting in front of the door, which looked to have remained closed since he had last entered, he peered down into to the small crack underneath the barrier. There was a sliver of vermilion light creeping through the crevice, though Flug assumed it was just the moonlight shining through the rose-tinted windows. Going with a more cautious, stealthy approach, the scientist rested the side of his head against the door, so his ear was pressed against the wood through his paper sandwich bag, and he focused on his hearing.

Hmm, there didn’t appear to be any noise coming from within the room. (Name) must have still been asleep, but how that was even possible dumbfounded Flug.

Perhaps the eldritch’s influence had something to do with it, but what else was new? As long as the doctor could get the monitor on them, he didn’t care what Black Hat was doing, so long as his power over them ceased soon.

The old wood of the door creaked as it shifted, and its hinges let out shrill groans as Flug unhurriedly pushed it open. He winced at the sound, hoping it wouldn’t rouse (Name) from their sleep, but steadily continued until there was an opening big enough for him to slip inside.

The moonlight from the outdoors shined into the stained glass window panes, illuminating the bedchamber in an otherworldly, crimson glow. As Flug suspected, the new recruit was still passed out on their bed, chest rising and lowering with each intake of dusty air.

All the dirt floating in the air certainly could not be doing their lungs any good, but Flug couldn’t be concerned with that right now. Once he was finished here, he would ask 5.0.5 to clean their bedroom for them when he woke up.

Sneakers tip-toeing across the floor, with the plush carpeting helping to muffle his footsteps, he crept over to the bedside. He had to set the device on the end table in order to free his hands, and he carefully adjusted (Name) so they were no longer on their side in order to give him some more room to work with.

Now lying perfectly straight on their back, all Flug had to do was attach the mechanism, but there was just one problem:

_Their boots._

They stopped just at (Name)'s shins and laced the entire way upwards, tightly snug around their feet and legs.

Flug internally groaned, palming his covered face at the sight.

 _Of course!_ Black Hat just _had_ to give them boots that would prevent the mechanism from being secured!

Flug was honestly beginning to think his boss was intentionally trying to put him at a setback. Black Hat knew the doctor was creating a mechanism that would go around their ankle, but then he gives them boots that cover them tightly.

It’s not like he could just wrap it around the boot. The monitor had to make contact with the skin in order for it to work. The boot would have to come off, that was the only way around it, although Flug hoped its lacings could adjust the tightness so they’d still be able to wear it around the monitor. It’d be rather embarrassing for them if they had to walk around with one boot on and one off.

Flug shook his head, retrieving the device from the end table and setting it on the mattress beside their right foot. His pace was slow and steady as he reached for the laces of the boot, gently tugging on the ends of the neat bows that tied them together. Once they were no longer intertwined with one another, Flug was able to loosen the lacing system as it went downwards, and he could feel the shoe’s grip around (Name)'s lower leg begin to slacken.

Luckily, they still had yet to stir from their slumber, so the doctor was confident with his next move, though that didn’t deviate him from also taking an appropriate measure of caution. Hands gently wrapping around the heel and toe box, he carefully slid the boot of the recruit's foot, exposing the sock they wore beneath.

Folding it down so he had some room to work with, he grabbed the device that had been set aside, placed it around their ankle and secured the latches, locking the mechanism in place.

The contact of cold metal on hot skin caused them to murmur in their sleep at the uncomfortable sensation, but it was only a slight stirring, and they returned to their original, peaceful state of slumber moments later.

Now that his stealth mission was completed, Flug breathed a soft sigh in relief. Though the tracker was completed and now contacting human skin, it would have to be turned on remotely via a controlling device back in the lab, which would monitor their location and transmit any emotional spikes.

The scientist crept out of the room after placing the boot beside the bed, closing the door behind him with a soft _‘click’_. It was as if he had never been in there, and he wanted to keep it that way. Of course, he expected to eventually be asked about it, so he would have to offer an excuse for the mechanism.

Entertaining his options, Flug navigated the labyrinth of hallways once more, but this time, halted upon reaching the imposing double-doors to Black Hat’s office. His knuckles rapped against the dark wood with a small knock, and a few seconds later he heard a grating voice respond.

_“Come in.”_

With his boss’s permission, the doctor swung open the wide double-doors and was met with the sight of the black-clad, humanoid figure gazing back at him, the dark pupil expanding at the sight of him.

His mouth was fashioned into a half-smirk, and two jagged teeth protruded where his non-existent lips curved. As he stared back at Flug, one eyebrow raised expectantly in a nonverbal _“what?”_ manner.

The mad scientist clasped his quivering hands together, fingers intertwining anxiously, and he struggled to find his words before Black Hat could grow impatient with his lack of response.

“Um, sir, the uh… m-monitoring device has been completed and is, uh, ready for use. I shall start it up momentarily.”

Appearing satisfied with Flug’s answer, the eldritch horror bared his minty canines in a wide, toothy grin, and he seemed to relax ever so slightly in his seat.

“Excellent. Your assistance is appreciated, Dr. Flug,” Black Hat rested a gloved hand on the crown of the crimson skull on his desk, continuing to eye the doctor unnervingly. “You are dismissed now. Sweet nightmares...”

The demon’s eye lit up maliciously, and he let out a brief cackle as the doctor took that as his cue to scurry out the doors, shutting them behind him hastily. Black Hat had finally ceased his reign over (Name)’s mind, and now Flug had to start up the transmission device.

He still had yet to discover whether Black Hat’s influence actually affected how long they had been asleep, but nevertheless, the doctor wanted to start up the ankle monitor before they could awaken.

When Flug returned to the lab, he was greeted by the insanity-inducing ticking of the clock above the door, but he didn’t bother to check the time. Instead, he rushed over to the workbench, where a small, box-shaped mechanism lied in wait.

Raising the antenna protruding from the top of the machine and clicking a red button the side, Flug watched from behind his goggles as the screen flickered to life, forming sentences in green, digitalized lettering.

**MOTION DETECTION TRACKER: ON**

**EMOTIONAL STABILITY TRANSMISSION: ON**

**ELECTRICAL SHOCKS: ON**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent at least three days rewriting this chapter until I finally came up with this. I've been speculating Black Hat's abilities for some time now, but I thought the idea that he can suppress certain emotions in humans was pretty neat, so I decided to use it for this. 
> 
> Also, I apologize if this chapter seems out of place. We really don't see much in the reader's perspective, but that's because I could not figure out a way to write it from that perspective for the life of me. Plus, I thought it would make the plot more interesting, considering the reader is oblivious to most of the chapter's events. 
> 
> Now that I have a place to easily pick up from, the next chapter will take a lot less time to write. I plan for it to be mostly filler with a few inklings of plot here and there, and also expect some humor and relationship building with the villains (except BH, for obvious reasons). 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Rise and Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up from your long slumber and come to the conclusion that Black Hat is a bit of a freak, though you can't say you're very surprised.

Your mind was muddled in a groggy daze as you lifted yourself from the nest of pillows and blankets, and you wiped away the disgusting, crystallized gunk that had formed in the corners of your eyes during your slumber.

A long yawn ripping from your dry throat, you blinked bewilderedly at your surroundings. At first, they were foreign to your foggy mind, but slowly, the still fresh memories of the previous day returned. A surge of dread bolted through your veins in an icy fury as you finally made sense of it all.

It came as fragments, like frames from a film strip - out of order, but still sharing a close link to one another as they played over and over like a broken record. Some came without sight, rather with simply sound and feeling, while others were reversed, with no noise to be heard but could be seen in your mind’s eye as clear as day. The shouts and screams echoed off the inner walls of your head, yet now, they seemed all the more ear-piercing and oh-so torturously slow. But above all, in the very back of your mind was that horrendous vision - that _monster_.

Glossy, black talons dripping with crimson gore, and jagged, pale green canines, the tips of which that had been dyed red, that could sink into flesh with the greatest of ease, tearing through muscles and tissue like a hot knife through butter. Snatching the lifeforce from prey was elementary with such assets. The humanoid pile of mangled flesh and bones the creature towered above being proof to that testament.

That brutal squelching and cracking sound was still fresh in your mind, intertwining with the grotesque visions of razor-like, lengthy claws shredding flesh into ribbons and pointed teeth with the power to crush bone, to form a perfectly horrific scene repeatedly replaying in your head.

The mental image triggered your gag reflex, and you desperately tried to subdue those twisted memories. The cold, hard dread that had formed in the pit of your stomach felt like a heavy stone that only grew in weight as you recalled that the monster was none other than Black Hat, who was now your employer.

Not to mention that said employer was also forcing you to live out the remainder of your mortal days in his manor as one of his personal henchmen, and chances are even if you did die, your soul would probably also be indebted to him as well, considering what he had stated earlier.

_What the fuck._

“Well, I pray I’ll live to the end of the year, at least,” you grumbled quietly to yourself, slinging your legs over the bedside. Your brow furrowed curiously when you felt the plush texture of carpeting between your toes rather than the hard sole of your boot, and you glanced downwards.

Squinting in an attempt to fight against the darkness that hindered your vision, you could make out that like you had suspected, your right boot was absent from your right foot, but that wasn’t the strangest part of it all. In its place was a bulky, cylindrical object, that had been wrapped around your ankle.

Lifting your leg back onto the bed, you ran the fleshy pads of your fingertips over the object, and a sleek, metal texture was given as the only clue to what the contraption could possibly be. Further spurred on by this mystery, your nails found themselves lodged in the crevices where the metal plates ended. When you tried to pry the plates apart, however, you discovered that the bolts that secured them tightly together left no room for the possibility of prying the object off your leg.

“ _Okaaayy,_ ” you shot the brace a glare that was a mixture between confusion and irritation, and your voice held the same tone as you spoke. “Already off to a great start. I’m trapped in an evil lair belonging to public enemy number one, and now there’s a hunk of metal stuck on my leg. _What a day._ ”

The discovery of this mechanism, as well as how and why it was on your leg, did nothing to quell the dread piercing through you like a spear, and the shaky breath that escaped your lips was a testament to that.

At least that empty feeling was gone now.

Deciding that investigating the metal brace further would be a waste of time and mental strength, you decided to attend to more important matters, like going to the bathroom. Your bladder felt fit to burst at any moment, which beckoned the question as to how long you had slept. As you stumbled over to the bathroom, partially from lopsidedness that came with wearing only one boot, giving half your body some extra height, as well as the shadows surrounding you and hindering proper sight.

Fingers fumbling for the switch on the opposite side of the wall, you winced as your eyes adjusted the harsh glare of the light fixture overhead. The tile flooring chilled the bare sole of your foot to the bone, but you couldn’t be all that bothered with the icy feeling, as your bladder felt like a balloon ready to pop.

You didn’t even bother to shut the bathroom door, knowing it would be pointless since no one would disturb you - this was _your_ room now, after all - and you went about relieving yourself as fast as possible.

Once you had expelled the buildup of pressure in your lower abdomen, you gave your hands a good scrubbing under the stream of warm water from the sink faucet. After drying them with one of the old, stiff towels left to hang on its rack for god knows how long, and giving your bedhead a quick taming with a nearby comb, you left as quickly as you came.

Flopping back on the bed, you glanced up at the ceiling, your imagination taking hold as you made out peculiar patterns in the paint. With the room still blanketed in a veil of shadow, the deluded moonlight served as your vision’s only guide, its pale glow tinted a shade of vermilion that gave the bedroom an otherworldly, yet lovely atmosphere.

You assumed the rest of the manor must have been like this during the night, and you could only imagine the eerie tranquility it provided. The world was silent for the time being, and it roused the question of exactly what time it was. It had to have been some time after midnight at least, but you couldn’t be troubled with checking your phone, so the curiosity simply ebbed away at its slothful pace, and you returned your attention to the patterns in the paint.

It was perplexing how the imagination worked. It seemed often swayed by the subconscious, as the images you began to make out proved evident. In one speck, you could make out the basic shape of a top hat, not unlike the one Black Hat himself wore, complete with a faint line forming the band around the hat’s base.

And then, just a bit further downwards, was a smile.

It was extraordinarily wide, the corners nearly curling in on themselves in a bizarre, Cheshire Cat-like grin. You could even make out a thin, zigzag pattern in between the lines that made up the outer edges of the mouth, forming jagged, shark-like teeth.

Giggling softly, your eyes studied the pattern further. It was actually quite comical how your encounters with the eldritch were influencing your imagination, causing you to see images that represented him in such peculiar ways.

…Wait a minute.

Actually, now that you thought about it, unlike the top hat - which the lines were merely rough and uneven, only forming a basic shape - the smile consisted of perfectly smooth, steady lines, as if someone had deliberately carved it into the ceiling.

But that roused a single question.

_How did it get there?_

Your brow furrowed as you continued to eye the image, that uneasy feeling in your gut returning. That smile was still there, leering down at you in its comically - borderline creepy - fashion. The further you examined it, the further the grin’s corners grew. It was a slow in its alteration, so languid that you didn’t even notice it at first, but you soon realized its growth the longer you stared at it, unblinking.

“What the…?”

Then, just like that, the smiling image was gone.

In bewilderment to the pattern’s sudden disappearance, your eyes quickly darted about the ceiling in hopes of finding it again, though only to reassure yourself that it was indeed real and not your brain simply playing tricks. However, the carved pattern had disappeared completely, leaving only rough, curved lines in its stead.

It was as if it was never there to begin with.

Eyelids fluttering shut in order to wetten your eyeballs after their minute-long staring contest with the ceiling, a small groan slipped past your lips, but you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“This place is freaking weird.”

**\------ ~~~ ------**

The hallways were nearly pitch-black as you strolled towards the stairs, and you hated to admit that you stumbled and barely avoided taking a fall more than once in the span of a minute.

Damn Black Hat and his lack of need for proper lighting.

Holding out your hands to your sides so you could feel the walls as you walked, in order to keep you steady and help you make sense of your location, you made your way past the towering doors to Black Hat’s study, which you now subconsciously used as a halfway checkpoint between your room and the staircase to the foyer.

In your peripheral vision, you could see a faint ray of golden light seeping out from beneath the crack of the doors, signaling that the eldritch was still most likely in his office, doing paperwork or whatever shady, evil businessmen did. In any case, you didn’t care to find out what his work activities included, as you were certain that none of them were at all too savory.

You speed-walked past the doors, returning to a more languid pace once you had put some distance between the office and yourself.

If you could avoid facing Black Hat for as long as you could, it would be both a preferable and healthy option to take, giving that simply being in his presence makes your heartbeat pick up the pace by a tenfold. That definitely spoke quite a bit about how fear-inducing the demon was.

But you would get over it eventually. You had to, if you didn’t wanted to die of a heart attack.

A few slivers of rose-tinted moonlight creeped into the foyer from the large, stained-glass window situated just above the entrance door, illuminating the entrance hall as you landed on the maroon long runner rug leading from the entrance to the staircase. It was obvious that it was far past sundown, but for all you knew, it could have been nine at night or three o’clock in the morning.

“There should be a clock around here somewhere,” you muttered. “Ugh, I should’ve just checked my phone.”

The heels of your boots clacked gently against the flooring, and despite being muffled by the carpet, still managed to pierce harshly through the thick veil of silence that had been cast over the manor, its echo bouncing off the floor and nearby walls.

Before you left your room to traverse the manor, you had luckily managed to slip your other boot on past the metal brace, though its bulky outline was still noticeable. You still had no idea what it was or what purpose it served, but you got the feeling Flug would be able to tell you if you ever asked. It was likely that he was the one who put it on you in the first place, though his intentions were a mystery, at least for now.

Peaking your head into the doorway of the kitchen, in search of the possibility of a clock hanging from the walls, your eyes landed on a familiar head of fluorescent, two-toned hair.

Demencia was leaning haphazardly against the counter, cellphone in one hand as she typed away with the other. She didn’t seem to notice you as you strolled up to her, or she simply didn’t care.

However, those suspicious were blown away when her typing hand shot out, latching onto the cuff of your coat’s sleeve as soon as you were in her proximity. Letting out a yelp from the unexpected action, you stared at her bewilderedly, and she returned your gaze with an equally surprised - though more deranged - look as she tossed her phone aside on the counter.

Demencia let out a squeal as she eyed you intensely.

“ _Ooh_ , (Name)! Lovin’ the new look!” Her grip remained tight as a vice around your wrist, holding up your captured hand to inspect the ashen glove that covered it. “Where’d ya get it?! It makes ya look really menacing!”

Still taken aback, you struggled to find your words. “Oh, well, uh… Black Hat just kinda dropped it off on my bed. ‘Guess he wanted me to fit in with the whole aesthetic of the place.”

Her eyes lightened up even more at the mention of the eldritch’s name.

“Woah, really? _Lucky!_ The only gift he ever left on my bed was rat guts! And they were so hard to hang on the walls - they kept sliding off the hooks and they reeked!”

You blinked a few times, eyes wide as you processed her words.

“Well, that’s, uh…” you trailed off, unsure of how to respond. It was a challenge, trying to subdue the appalled comments that wanted to tear from your throat, but you managed to pull off a half-assed, lopsided grin instead.

 _Rat guts?_ That’s disgusting! What kind of person leaves something like that on someone’s-- actually, nevermind. You already knew the answer to that question - Black Hat did. But you were grateful that at least his welcoming gift to you didn’t involve the innards of flayed rodents.

“I know, right?! He’s so considerate! Giving me decorations for my room - he can’t hide his affection for me no matter how hard he tries!” Her two, small fangs were bared in a toothy, thrilled grin as she giggled to herself like giddy schoolgirl.

Wait, _what_?

Black Hat - considerate? Affection for her?

_What was she going on about?_

You laughed anxiously.

“Heh, y-yeah,” a strong sense of uncertainty underlied your tone, and you were eager to change the subject. “Hey Demencia, uh, do you know what time it is?”

Luckily, your transition, despite being abrupt and clearly out of place, seemed to knock her out of whatever lovestruck trance she was in, and she snatched her phone from its place on the counter when she unceremoniously tossed it aside earlier.

However, you found her movements a tad on the odd side, as a sudden, small tremble seemed to bolt throughout her limbs, causing her to fidget where she stood and her fingers to shake softly. Yet the subtle quiver ebbed away from her just as fast as it had came.

“Nearly four in the mornin’,” Demencia drawled, her demeanor melting into one much more mellow. That excited grin was replaced with a half-smirk, and her eyelids drooped. “Oh, you’re starting work today, right?”

“Yeah, ‘guess I’m supposed to cook and clean, but Black Hat also said something about tea…? I don’t really know what that’s about,” You honestly had no idea if he was serious or not about the whole delivering tea business. Did he even need fluids to sustain himself? Maybe it was more of a luxury than a necessity - but either way, it didn’t matter. As long as you did your job and did it correctly, you could get by without facing his wrath anytime soon, which you desperately hoped would be the case.

Demencia let out an obnoxious cackle.

“Wow, you’re the tea lady now, too?” She smirked widely. “Good luck with that - he’s _super_ picky about it! You have to pour _just_ the right amount of cyanide in it or else he demands a new cup!”

You nearly choked on the saliva in your throat.

“Did… Did you just say _cyanide_?” you sputtered, eyes lit up in bewilderment. That had to be a joke, right? There’s no way Black Hat would actually drink cyanide… or would he?

Demencia merely nodded, chuckling as she confirmed your question. “Yup! He says it makes the tea sweeter, but when I tried it, it still tasted the same as regular tea! I don’t get it!”

You stared at her, jaw going slack. “Wh-What? You drank it before?!”

“Why not? I was curious,” she explained nonchalantly, offering a shrug of her shoulders. “Though Blacky did get mad at me for it, and Flugbug was hyperventilating for a few hours after that, but that’s normal for them.”  

“And… did anything _happen_ to you?”

Demencia placed her hand beneath her chin, as if she was thinking, and the tip of her tongue protruded from her lips. “Hmm, well, I did get a bit dizzy afterwards, and I may have thrown up _just_ a little…”

You heard a soft _‘tsk’_ from behind you, and both your heads turned. There was none other than Black Hat, standing in the doorway with an expression far from impressed.

Just when you thought you could be able to avoid him, he shows up out of the woodwork.

 _‘Great,’_ you thought, _‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear.'_

Deciding that the phrase couldn’t be any more literal, you couldn’t help but move a step towards Demencia in an attempt to put some more space between you and the demon, as well as use her as both a shield and a way to block you from his line of sight.

“ _Demencia_ , three carpets and a loveseat had to be replaced because of your disgusting vomiting,” he shot her a piercing glare, mouth twisted in a heavy scowl. “So _‘just a little’_ is, by far, a clear understatement, and you know it.”

With the way he was glowering at her, you would have thought Demencia would be at least slightly terrified (you knew you were, and you weren’t even the one he was angered with), but to your surprise, she flashed him a coy smirk.

“Well, well, well,” she tittered, offering him a wink accompanied by a flirtatious giggle. “ _Hellooo_ , handsome! What brings you here so late at night?”

Her question was met with a low, rumbling growl deep from the eldritch’s throat, and he bared his canines in a grimace.

“I could hear you squealing like a stuck pig all the way from upstairs, you imbecile,” he elucidated, his voice lowering by a few octaves. “But I see now that I’ve had the benefit of not being in _this one’s_ position during your horrid squawking.”

Upon the words, _“this one’s”_ , his glare transitioned from Demencia to just past her shoulder, where you were awkwardly positioned, and he slowly approached all while keeping you under his scrutinizing gaze.

A gloved hand reached out to clasp loosely around Demencia’s face, her cheery expression turning into one of surprise as Black Hat pushed her roughly out of the way with considerable force despite his slack grip.

You watched in alarm as she tumbled unceremoniously onto the floor with a harsh _‘thud’_ , and she let out a small grunt before taking back to her feet, scampering out the door, though not before giving him another look of lovestruck admiration.

With Demencia now gone, Black Hat’s deep scowl morphed into a wide grin, full of pale green, jagged teeth that sparked your pulse to speed up by a tenfold.

You swallowed hard as your eyes met his visible one.

“I trust you’ve slept well, (Name)?” Black Hat asked, though his tone did not fit well with his words. He made it sound more like a mocking statement rather than a genuine curiosity, and you couldn’t say that his seemingly passive chatter made you any less uneasy.

“Y-Yes, sir,” you replied meekly, fidgeting nervously as he studied you intently. At your reply, his smile lessened into a faint smirk, though the tips of his fangs were still noticeable as they protruded from the corners of his mouth.

“Good. Then I won’t have to be bothered with you passing out again like you did yesterday,” he remarked, his expression briefly turning withered as he crossed his arms.

His words hit you with a small impact, not very damaging, but still enough to rub salt in the wound. For a split second, you had half the mind to retort with a snarky comment of your own - something along the lines of, _‘I probably wouldn’t have been so tired if you hadn’t chased me around the damn city all morning,’_ \- but the thought was pushed aside in haste.

Yeah, right. If you were bold enough - and idiotic enough - to give the eldritch backtalk, it’d most likely end with your ass getting kicked, or far worse. The beating of your heart sped up as you recalled his earlier warning.

**_“Always look back on the pathetic end to his miserable life if you ever feel like going against me.”_ **

Those words echoed across the corners of your mind, bouncing off their metaphorical walls. You shuddered, a small tremble coursing down your spine, and you gulped nervously.

“I… apologize, sir, I don’t know what came over me then,” you offered as an excuse to your sudden disappearing act for the rest of the day, hoping it would suffice. Luckily, Black Hat seemed satisfied, as he took up his usual smirk that practically radiated smugness.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re positively clueless, but there’s no use dwelling on that,” he swished a hand about in a shooing manner before settling at his side. “I’ll let it slide for now.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Though _only_ because you weren’t technically on the clock yet. If I ever catch you snoozing during your work hours,” Black Hat’s tone twisted into a dark cocktail of wickedness, and he leaned in a just bit too close for comfort, flashing you a devilish grin that triggered your fight-or-flight instinct to scream at you to run. “ _I’ll give you something to keep you awake…_ ”

Then, just like that, he pulled away, regaining his original composure, and leaving you in a state of bewilderment and unease.

He still loomed over you with astonishing height - though most of that height came from the ridiculously large tophat on his head - and with barely four inches of space between the two of you, but still, you were a slight tad more comfortable now that he was no longer in your face.

Though that didn’t last for long, as Black Hat shot you another menacing smile filled with minty, monstrous canines that gleamed dangerously in the overhead light.

He placed a hand delicately on your shoulder, the faint contact not at all pleasant as flashbacks from the previous morning flooded your mind. You flinched away in anticipation of the claws unsheathing and digging painfully into your skin like they had done before in your first encounter with Black Hat, though that expected pressure never came.

“Well now, since we’ve taken care of that matter, I suppose I’ll leave you to your work,” he said casually, a sharp contrast from the downright vile look on his face. “I expect you in my office with the tea as per requested at six o’clock sharp. _Do not be late_.”

Without another word, Black Hat strode out of the kitchen, gloved hands clasped behind his back as he began to whistle a tune to himself. Meanwhile, you stood unmoving in the exact same spot he had left you in, staring blankly at the empty space the eldritch had been in.

Once the haunting whistling was now nothing more than a memory that could no longer be heard, you finally managed to pull yourself from the daze you had been put into, and you offered a shaky chuckle to yourself, though it was born from fear rather than hiliarity. Slowly slumping against the counter, you let out yet another long, tired sigh, however, this one was not of relief like its closely related cousins that had previously escaped your lips.

Who needed relief, anyways?

Relief was for the weak.

And, oh, you’re very weak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from the dead, guys! 
> 
> I'm so sorry that this chapter took so long to write (it's not even as large as the previous ones), but I've been pretty busy lately with preparing for exams and school in general. Plus, I've found myself in a bit of a burnout period, so that definitely affected my motivation to write and whatnot. 
> 
> Don't worry though, I love writing for this fic and I'm not going to scrap it like I did the other one, I've just been having trouble focusing on writing lately and I'm stressing a lot over exams, and I realize education comes first. So sorry if this chapter seems rushed or half-assed, I just felt it was long overdue and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer! 
> 
> I promise the next one will be a lot better in quality and will be a lot longer than this one was! But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite its shortcomings, and I can't wait to post the next one!


	6. Before Work Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like usual, Demencia lets her fantasies seep into reality, and Flug has to deal with her shenanigans. Meanwhile, you go on a wild goose chase for the poison in question, and realize neither of your coworkers are making healthy lifestyle choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously relating to Flug right now, because I'm currently only functioning on an hour of sleep and three cups of coffee. 
> 
> I should probably take a nap.

Yet another potential grace of dawn was obscured by a gathering of thick, inky clouds that sullied the sky, its natural pale blue hue replaced with somber grey, as if someone had painted the horizon with cigarette ashes. A cacophonous wail from the heavens breached the serene quiet that had settled over the world, and with it, commenced an onslaught of weeping from the sky above. 

For Flug Slys, it seemed this day would be no different than the last. Yet another twenty-four hours to add onto his ongoing record without sleep. His overstayed appointment in the waking world would be spent in its customary routine - sitting at his workbench, chugging down coffee as if it were the cure to a horrid disease and fiddling with a half-finished device in hopes of getting yet another invention done before he reached the ever-encroaching deadline. 

The doctor had long since lost track of time, and he didn’t bother to check the clock hanging on the wall above the lab entrance because, as he put it, time costed time. Those few, precious seconds he could have spent working were instead spent reminding himself of the endless concept created by his ancestors in order to know when to rotate their crops, simply for the satisfaction of knowing how long it had been since he last checked. 

Those wasted seconds, rather than being used to his benefit, would instead be added on to the amount of time he would have to spend being accosted by his boss, which, in turn, would mean a brand new deadline for a brand new, money-making scheme cooked up by his employer on a greedy whim. And if he were honest with himself, Flug didn’t find that thought very appealing, and so, as he promptly decided, for both the better good of his sanity and general health altogether, he would use the limited time he had left to finish his project to the best of his advantage as he possibly could. Of course, that meant he would have to skip eating today -  _ again _ \- and focus solely working and forcing himself to stay awake. 

It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. He has on countless occasions and - as long as there were no material distractions in the room with him to take away his attention from his task - succeeded. So, in theory, as long as he was left in peace for the entirety of the day, he could actually get the device completed, with even a few hours to spare, which meant some sacred nap-time he desperately needed at this point.

But as fate would have it, hope was lost as soon as he heard the click of the door opening and closing, followed by exuberant footsteps rushing towards him in eagerness bordering a speed that could be appropriately dubbed superhuman. He knew that gait all too well, having memorized each of his coworker’s manners of walking by sound alone, and each fast-paced clack against the metal tiles only piqued his discontent further. Flug swore he could already feel the onset of a migraine pulsing away at his temples.

The scientist didn’t even care to give the intruder the benefit of the doubt this time around, favoring a much more blunt approach instead. 

“Get out of my lab, Demencia.”

A small whimper came in response, and Flug’s eye began to twitch as the lizard-human hybrid settled comfortably behind him, placing one of her arms atop his head, as if he were her personal armrest.

“C’mon, Fluggy, I haven’t even done anything yet!”

“But you  _ will _ do something eventually, and I can’t afford to clean up after your messes today,” Flug huffed, smacking Demencia’s arm off his head with a free hand. “I have a deadline tomorrow, and the device is only half-done! I have no time to chat, so you might as well leave now.”

He could practically hear the smirk that found its way onto the deranged woman’s lips. 

“Oh, really now?” She drawled. “You don’t even have time to talk with your favorite newbie? Then I guess you won’t be happy to hear that they’ve finally risen from the grave.” 

With that comment, Flug gave Demencia a side-eyed leer. “Newbie? You mean (Name)? Demencia, just  _ what _ , exactly, is that supposed to mean?”

Demencia snickered deviously. 

“You ain’t foolin’ me, Flugbug. For someone so busy, you sure did spend a lot of time with them yesterday! Sounds a bit fishy, if you ask me,” she replied, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

Flug, having briefly choked on his own saliva at her statement, let out a loud cough, and once he had recovered, swerved on his stool to face her. 

“Are you implying…?” He saw the coy grin form on her face, and immediately knew she was indeed suggesting exactly what he thought. “...N-No, just  _ no _ ! Get whatever nonsensical fantasies in your head, out of there, because they’re not real!” 

Demencia giggled like a schoolgirl that had just been told the latest gossip. “There’s no use denying it! I have a special eye for such matters - I know the blossoming of love when I see it!”

“I… no. N-No! Why you!”

There was so many ways Flug wanted to retort to that accusation that they all just muddled together in a pile of incomprehensible gibberish on his tongue, exiting his mouth as small snippets of language coming out so fast that didn’t even sound relatively close to proper words. Eventually, he attempted to correct himself and form an actual coherent rebuttal, but the damage had already been done. 

“See, you’re totally speechless - c’mon, just admit it already! I won’t tell a soul! Look, I can even help you! Your good ol’ pal Dem is an awesome wingman! Just lemme work my magic and I can have them falling head over heels for you in a heartbeat!” She tittered, her reality-disconnected mind buzzing with so many fanciful ideas that she couldn’t contain the vehement squeal that forced its way out of her in excitement. 

At that, Flug’s will to reason with the woman any further was shattered, and in a sudden fit of half frustration, half sleep-deprivation, resorted to chucking a nearby wrench that had been on his workbench at her.

“For the love of god, just get out of my lab already!”

Demencia, having narrowly dodged the makeshift projectile, was pulled from her fantasies and finally seemed to get the message through that thick skull of hers. Scurrying to the door, which opened for her as soon as the motion detector sensed her presence, she bolted out of the room, the door closing with a soft  _ ‘click’ _ behind her. Once again, Flug was alone once more, though now much more disoriented and with a beginning of a headache beating away at his brain.

Snatching the wrench from the floor, he returned the tool to his workbench and sat down on the padded stool. Resting his bagged head in his hands, Flug scoffed as Demencia’s words played back in his head. 

_ Love? _ That’s absolutely ridiculous! Since when did spending time with someone imply love? Sure, he did spend a good few hours with (Name) the other day, and even invited them to join him back in the lab while he worked, but that was only a friendly gesture! 

He understood that their situation was probably a lot to take in - they did get kidnapped by  _ Black Hat _ , of all people, after all - and it’s not like they’re a mobster or someone affiliated with crime and villainy, or even a hero for that matter. They’re just an average citizen that unfortunately happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time! Being held captive by a criminal mastermind is one thing if it’s likely in your line of work, but Flug couldn’t even begin to comprehend what it must be like for a regular, day-to-day passerby, being plucked off the streets for no good reason other than for the amusement of their captor. 

He felt responsible to provide a friendly face and some emotional support in all this madness they’re going through until they can stand on their own two feet in the blatant, harsh reality they’ve found themselves in. Besides, unlike his boss and destructive coworker, (Name) wasn’t completely horrifying or an utter nuisance. He could actually have a conversation with them that isn’t forged in uncomfortable discussions about his work progress or yelling at them to stop bugging him. And while 5.0.5 was always nice to have around, it’s still quite difficult to hold up a conversation when all you get is animalistic whimpers and howls in response. 

But now there’s (Name), a person that he can properly talk to and expect an honest answer from. That’s one downside to being a villain - your coworkers, despite how long you’ve worked alongside them, usually can never be expected to be genuine. Though it’s not like Flug could complain without calling himself a hypocrite in the process. Most of the time, it’s always better to give an answer that’s expected rather than a truthful one. As sad as it is, it’s simply a way to make things easier for yourself, but maybe that could change, now with the entrance of an ordinary civilian on the villain scene. 

Of course, that _ ‘ordinary civilian’ _ label wouldn’t last much longer. They’d eventually change their views to suit a more dastardly lifestyle, and would soon go from civilian to villain under Black Hat’s careful watch and planning. But maybe,  _ just maybe _ , Flug could salvage that genuity. 

A sudden sharp pang in his head tore Flug away from his thoughts, and he grasped his forehead in response. 

“Oh, great,” he groaned, using his fingers to message as his covered temples.  _ A headache. _ Perfect, just what he needed. “Dammit, Demencia…” 

In all honesty, the scientist couldn’t tell if the pain was from the deranged woman’s earlier antics or if it was a symptom of his sleep deprivation, or both, but he decided to go with the former. If he were truthful with himself, Flug simply wanted someone to blame for his discomfort, and Demencia seemed like the perfect target at the moment.

Rising from his seat on the stool, Flug grabbed the mug of coffee on his workbench, the black liquid sloshing against the walls of its container as the doctor strolled over to the cluttered desk in the corner of the room. His shielded eyes briefly glanced over the contents of the desk before landing on a small, white bottle containing the sought after cure to his pain.

After administering (Name) some pills to cure their own migraine yesterday, Flug thanked himself for not completely closing the lid so he wouldn’t have to take any extra effort to bypass the infernal child-lock mechanism. Popping off the already loose top, he shook out two, baby-blue painkillers and carefully placed them on his tongue, followed by a quick swig of coffee to wash them down. 

Flug shuddered as the bitter, cold liquid rinsed down his throat, taking the pills with it. He eyed the caffeinated beverage harshly, before realizing something crucial.

_ He was running low on coffee. _

Flug sighed.

Well, looks like it’s time to get another pot brewing.

**\------ ~~~ ------**

If someone had told you two days ago that’d you be rummaging through the kitchen cabinets of a million-dollar mansion belonging to a criminal mastermind - who just so happened to also be the proprietor of the largest villains network corporations in the world - in order to find  _ cyanide _ , of all things, to spike your new boss’ tea with… you would have looked at them like they were crazy and laughed in their face. But surprise, surprise! Here you were, doing exactly that, and having one hell of a time while doing it! 

Seriously, how hard is it to find a bottle of cyanide? It has to be around here somewhere! Unless Black Hat is leading you on a wild goose chase and there actually is no cyanide, which at this point, you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if that was actually the case. 

You’ve taken up searching through every place in the kitchen - from the drawers, to the fridge, the cabinets, even underneath the sink - and yet, with each new place you look, you’re met with the same stuff you’ve come to expect - crackers, bags of chips, cereal boxes, granola bars, and instant oatmeal packets. Yep, even under the sink. Why there’s a hoard of breakfast and snack items underneath the sink, well… it’s probably better not to question it. 

And when you reached the final cabinet, the little hope you had left dwindled away to nothing when you saw pretty much the exact same contents that were in the other cabinets, except this one had a yellow crayon in it, seeming to have just been randomly placed there. 

Fingers wrapping around crayon, you eyed it curiously. 

_ Huh. _

Coming to the conclusion that someone probably just misplaced it, you decided store the crayon in your coat pocket for the time being, so you could return the lost object to its owner once you’ve identified who that could possibly be. 

Black Hat? No way, he doesn’t seem like the time to take up coloring as a hobby. Flug? Hmm, maybe for diagrams or projects, but he’d probably use something more professional than crayons, if that were the case. Maybe Demencia? She honestly seems like the type of person that would either love them or hate them, so there’s a good fifty-fifty chance that it may belong to her. But what about 5.0.5? Wait, (Name), what are you talking about? He’s a  _ bear _ ! He doesn’t have opposable thumbs! It’s not like he could hold a crayon, so why would he take up a hobby that’s impossible for him to do? 

You gave your cheek a light smack with your hand in order to pull yourself from your train of thought. This wasn’t the time to be questioning your coworkers’ hobbies - you had a bottle of poison to find! 

Once again, you returned to rummaging through the cabinet’s contents, praying that by some miracle it would actually be in there. However, as you expected, the cyanide was nowhere to be found, and now all you had was a crayon in your possession and a wide array of messy cabinets. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” You groaned, closing the cabinet door with a bit more force than was probably necessary, and it emitted a loud slam as the wood panels met each other in a harsh impact. “Where could it possibly be?!” 

How did Black Hat expect you to do your job without the means to do it with? What, does he think you have x-ray vision or something? It’s beginning to feel like he’s purposely setting you up to fail! 

Letting out a heavy huff of air that hissed through your teeth, you sank into the corner between the fridge and counter, grumbling incoherently to yourself.

“Oh dear, um, is everything okay in here…?” 

Your head darted towards the door, where you saw Flug standing in the entrance, looking like a trainwreck. His bag was disheveled, the pointed tips frayed about in wayward direction, and his goggles were crooked, like they had been haphazardly placed on without much care.

The frustration that had previously took hold of you melted away in light of concern as you gazed worriedly at Flug. 

“Oh, hey there, Flug. Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just having trouble finding something, is all. Are… you holding up alright? You look like you’re about to pass out.” 

Flug chuckled weakly.

“Is is that obvious?” He asked, walking into the kitchen and towards the coffee machine, placing the mug that had been in his hand on the counter. 

“Your bag literally has  _ bags _ under its eyes. If that doesn’t give it away, I dunno what does,” you replied, and Flug took a brief moment to stare at his reflection in the window above the sink, eyes widening slightly upon taking in his appearance. 

“Wow,” he finally said after a long pause. “I guess you’re right.” 

You flashed him a crooked grin from across the kitchen, but it was obvious you didn’t find his appearance as entertaining as it was concerning. 

“It’s obvious that you’re exhausted, Flug. How long have you been up?” You questioned further, observing as he poured a few spoonfuls of ground coffee beans into a clean filter. 

As he went to fill the machine with water, he paused for a moment before turning back to you, and rather than giving you an answer, simply asked, “What day is it?”

“Oh no. That doesn’t help your case at all. At this point, I’m guessing a few days?” 

“Um, more like a week, I think.” 

You choked on your own breath, staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. Once you recovered after a bit of hacking, you turned to him once more, wiping some moisture from your eyes that had been brought forth from your harsh coughing fit. 

“A week? For god’s sake, please tell me you’re joking!”

“Well, not an entire week - that’d just be ridiculous. I do get some naps in every now and then.” 

“I… Okay then. Still, I doubt that’s very healthy,” was all you said in response. 

“Probably not, but hey, we do what we must.”

After that, the room fell naturally into a silent veil burdened heavily by a uncomfortable awkwardness. Flug returned to gazing at the coffee machine, watching intently as the thin stream of dark liquid dripped into the pot, and slowly but surely filling its way to the top. He seemed eager to get his dose of caffeine, as he took up impatiently tapping his foot against the floor as he waited for the brew to finish. 

Meanwhile, you somehow found entertainment in watching as the hands of the clock hanging from the wall ticked away at the time. The longer you watched, the longer the pause between the movement of the second hand seemed to increase, while your attention did the opposite. After two minutes - you would know, you counted after all - your focus transitioned from the insanity-inducing ticking of the clock to your hands, which you gazed lazily at. 

_ ‘Yep, those are definitely hands,’ _ you thought humorously to yourself, flexing your fingers and wiggling the digits back and forth.  _ ‘Good for you, (Name), at least you still know what hands are.’ _

God, this was awkward. Still, there was nothing stopping you from leaving the kitchen. Maybe you could head upstairs and watch a bit of television before getting ready for work, but, if you were being honest with yourself, just leaving Flug all alone so suddenly would seem rude. 

Why don’t you just say something? At least then you could get a conversation going again. No, that’d be weird. Besides, what would you even say? You couldn’t comment about the nice weather, because it was pouring out and heavy rain - or rain in general - typically wasn’t considered to be pleasant weather. Your knowledge in conversation starters was limited, and at this point, anything you could say would only made the situation even more uncomfortable. 

Yet, not even two seconds later, your prayer was miraculously answered when you heard Flug pipe up once more, shattering the silence that had enveloped the both of you.

“I just realized something.”

“...Hmm? What?”

Flug’s bagged head turned to you, eyes meeting your own as a small chuckle slipped from his lips. 

“It’s almost been twenty-four hours since you were brought here.” 

His words were like a slap to the face, the realization donning on you. A day. It’s nearly been a day since you were abducted. Less than a day ago, your life was relatively normal. You were just an average citizen trying to live a decent life without incident. Though you’ve already saw how that went for you. Incident indeed happened - ten times over, even - and abruptly shoved you into a reality that you wouldn’t have even been able to imagine until now. Yet, it’s a humbling thought, just how much can change in such little time. 

Flug noticed the somber expression that washed over your features, and a hidden grimaced pulled at his mouth. 

“O-Oh no, uh, I’m sorry. I forget that must be a sensitive topic for you.” 

His words pulling you from your thought-induced daze, you shook your head.

“No, no! It’s okay. It’s just a bit… strange to think that two days ago, I was living a regular life,” you explained. “And now - poof! Here I am, well... here.”

“Understandable enough,” the scientist agreed, letting out a yawn. “Your arrival was unexpected, even for us. The boss hasn’t ever done anything like that, unless…” 

His trailing off provoke an eyebrow raise from you. 

“...Unless what?”

“Well, unless the person he brought back was dead.”

“Oh.”

Flug nodded. 

“Y-Yeah, I hate to say that it’s becoming more and more frequent these past few months,” he laughed shakily. “He’s, uh, taken up the habit of going for midnight strolls around the city. Most of the time, he comes back empty-handed. And sometimes…well, um, not so much.” 

A shudder shot down your spine.

So  _ that’s _ the entire reason why you’re here? Because Black Hat decided to alleviate some boredom by taking a walk? Wow, just your luck. If you hadn’t went for a walk yourself, you could be in the comfort of your own home right now, relaxing without the fear of an eldritch horror toying with your life.

Talk about an ironic twist of fate.

When you put it into simple words, the entire situation you’ve found yourself in was almost comical, made of pure irony and undertaken on impulsive whims on both sides. Still, as laughable as it could have been, there was nothing comforting about knowing that you were just another victim of Black Hat’s games, though you should probably just be content with the fact that you’re luckier than most who’ve fallen into his hands - at least you’re still breathing. 

“Well then,” you muttered softly. “I guess that clears up some stuff.”

Flug, not knowing how to respond in a way that could be uplifting, merely shrugged in return. His coffee had finally finished brewing, and the pot was now filled to the top line with black liquid, steam billowing from the pouring spout. Grabbing his mug, he didn’t care to bother adding sweetener or creamer, settling simply for pouring the beverage until he deemed it to be an acceptable amount. 

Gingerly placing the cup under his chin, you watched as he guzzled down a few gulps of coffee through the cleverly placed straw so he could sip at his mug without lifting his bag. You couldn’t help but feel somewhat disgusted. How someone could drink straight-up, plain coffee was a mystery to you, but to each their own, you supposed. 

A soft sigh escaped the scientist, and he appeared to be content as he took another quick sip. 

“I should just take the thing back to the lab,” he commented, gesturing to the coffee machine. “It’s not like anyone else uses it.” 

Not being able to tell if he was cracking a joke or if he was actually serious, because with how desperate for caffeine he was, you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually lugged it back with him. Deciding to take his words with earnest, you offered to carry it for him, and he laughed faintly before waving off your remark. 

“No, it’s fine. I guess it’s good to get out of the lab every now and again, but I think I oughta be heading back now,” he said, half-lidded eyes roaming to the doorway, before returning to you. “Oh yeah, didn’t you say you were looking for something earlier?”

“Yeah, cyanide. Would you know where it could be?”

At your words, Flug’s eyes shot open, and he glared at you in suspicion. 

“W-Who told you we had cyanide? Don’t be getting any funny ideas now! Poisoning the boss won’t work--  _ oh _ ,” the realization donned on him, and he clasped his face in his palm. “Sorry, sorry, I forget about that whole tea business. Yeah, there’s cyanide, but I have to keep it under lock and key now ever since that one time Demencia drank it.” 

Ah, well that explains why you couldn’t find it anywhere. 

You chuckled briefly. 

“Yep, I caught wind of that incident from her earlier, though she made it sound a lot more casual.” 

“Oh, so she visited you, too?” Flug asked, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be surprised, she could make the end of the world sound like an everyday occurrence, but hey, that’s just Demencia for you. Just try not to take anything she says too seriously. Now, about that cyanide.”

Flug walked back to the lab with you in tow, and you watched as the doctor set his mug down on a nearby stool, before fishing out a ring of keys from the pocket in his lab coat. Finding the right one, he unlocked a metal cabinet screwed to the wall. Its shelves were lined with countless bottles, each containing curious liquids that you were positive were all toxic, given that most of them glowed ominously. 

Each bottle was labeled by a series of numbers and symbols that were foreign to your unacquainted mind, though you hoped it stayed that way, as knowing what each of them may be and their purpose could quite possibly be worse than the unknown meaning behind their labels and the confusion that came with it. 

Flug scanned over each bottle before finding the one he was looking for, and grasping one of the smaller ones. He muttered a quick _ “here you go” _ before handing it to you, and you inspected the bottle now in your possession.

Unlike its fellow poisonous cousins, the fluid contained within was clear and thankfully not glowing like a radioactive chemical, sloshing against the glass walls of its container with each movement of your hand. If its name hadn’t already been implanted in your mind, you would have mistaken it to be water. On its label, a series of letters and numbers scribbled in black marker read  _ “BHCYNDT6128.” _ That could mean anything, but nevertheless, you entertained its possible meanings. 

“Thanks, Flug,” you said relieved. “I thought I was gonna have to go on a full search around the house for it.” 

“No problem. Since I doubt you’d try drinking it, I’ll leave it with you from now on. Just make sure Demencia doesn’t get her hands on it though. I’d rather not have to pump her stomach again.” 

There was a thick sense of exasperation underlying his words, and you couldn’t help but wonder what else the woman in question has done. 

A thought flashed through your head, and triggered the spreading of a huge, cheesy grin across your lips. 

Flug looked at you quizzically.

“(Name), what is it?”

You took a moment to collect yourself, lest you break down laughing in the middle of the punchline. 

“I guess you could say... she has one hell of a drinking problem!” 

There was a few seconds of silence before you heard a muffled cackle come from the ventilation system.

Flug was staring at you with blank eyes, and despite the bag masking his face from view, you were certain his expression had gone completely deadpan. Another several moments of silence passed between the two of you, and the mischievous smile on your face gradually faded. 

“(Name)?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Keep this up and you’ll be driving _ me _ to drink.” 

Another cackle came from the vent, and Flug rested his head in his hands, heaving out a long sigh. You were positive that today was going to be an unique experience for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't mind the pun, it was the perfect opportunity and I had to take it. 
> 
> Gonna start on the next chapter right after I post this one. I've noticed I've been taking a wicked long time to write chapters recently and I want to try to break out of this funk before it becomes a bad habit. I'll sleep later. Sleep is for the weak, though last time I was in gym class, I learned that I was pretty weak.
> 
> Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this, but I also have a tumblr for villainous now! Feel free to chat with me there if you like! 
> 
> https://chronyxx.tumblr.com/
> 
> So yeah, that's about it! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if the pace is very slow, but the next chapter will be a bit faster, so that should be exciting! Hopefully chapter seven won't take so long to get out, I know I'm developing a bit of a habit of taking a long time to write, but I should be able to break outta that with the next chapter!


	7. Omelets, Bears, and Doctors - Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make breakfast for the gang, spend some quality time with your fellow housekeeper, and check up on an overly-exhausted Flug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's safe to say you and Flug are good buddies now.

Now with the long since sought after poison in your possession, your morning was in full swing. You aided an overexerted Flug in removing Demencia from the ventilation system, who eventually crawled out after being coaxed from her hiding spot with a half-eaten bag of chips, and after giving him a final “thank you” and exchanging goodbyes, you left the scientist to his work. 

As you stepped into the foyer, the metal door closing behind you with a firm  _ ‘click’ _ , fluorescent green flashed in your peripheral vision, darting up the wall and vanishing into the shadows reigning the corners of the ceiling. From the shadowed crevice resounded a string of giggles, dripping with mischievous intent and sliding further back into the darkest corners of the foyer.

Well, at least Demencia was finding some form of entertainment. Flug could finally be left in peace for some time, now that there was no concern over a rogue Demencia crawling through the vents. Though if you were truthful with yourself, the chance of that outcome was highly improbable. The deranged lizard-human hybrid was insatiable in her quest for self-serving amusement, and combining that will her superhuman abilities made her an unstoppable force of utter destruction. At least when it came to Flug’s work.

All you could do was pray she’d find enjoyment that wasn’t manifested from disrupting the peaceful atmosphere that had settled over the manor, but once again, that likelihood remained narrow. 

“Now, what to do?” 

An hour and a half remained before you would have to deliver Black Hat’s tea, and with your hunt for its most crucial ingredient since ceased, a large window for opportunity and leisure had presented itself before you. 

As if on cue, a low growl rumbled from your stomach, and with it becoming increasingly apparently that it had been over a day since you last partook in a proper meal, your internal conflict over what to do with your time was swiftly settled. Breakfast was being made early today. 

To both your surprise and great relief, when you went to check the fridge once more, expecting to find the same miscellaneous items that would serve nothing towards the empty hole that was your stomach, you had initially skipped over the carton of eggs cuddled in the corner on the top shelf. Upon checking the expiration date, you were delighted to find that they had recently been purchased, and judging by the weight of the carton, it was still fairly full. Looks like omelets it was then. 

After removing your gloves so they wouldn’t be at risk of getting messy, you went about fetching a pan and spatula, placing the pan on the stove before adjusting the heat, the burner flicking to life in a ring of small, blue flame. You sliced a few pads of butter from a nearby stick next to the toaster, and as you waited for the pan to heat up, in the meantime, you beated some eggs into a bowl with a fork, followed by a dash of milk and a pinch of salt and pepper. While it certainly wouldn’t be an exciting breakfast, it would have to do, given that the next best thing was a box of Evil-O’s, the expiration date mysteriously absent. You wouldn’t dare to plop a morsel of the artificially colored, charcoal-black pieces into your mouth to taste-test it to see if the cereal was still good, given that you could have sworn you heard a mouse squeak when you went to inspect the box. Those chocolate chips used to draw in more customers may not exactly be the regular chocolate chips you’d expect to find in your cereal, and you wouldn’t even accept thinking about risking it.

With the egg and milk mixture now seasoned and properly beaten to form a thick, light yellow liquid, you coated the bottom of the pan with a pad of butter and poured some of the mixture into it, swishing the pan around in a circular motion to cover the bottom entirely. It sizzled for a brief moment before returning to a calmer state, and you kept a close eye on the omelet as it slowly cooked. 

Humming a soft tune, you took out some plates, knives, and forks from the nearby cabinet and lined them up on the counter, one for each of the manor’s inhabitants, including yourself. The question of whether Black Hat would even  _ want _ an omelet hung over your head as you flipped half of the omelet over, but nevertheless, you decided to cook one for him anyway. 

Once the first omelet was done, you slid it onto a plate before starting on the next, all while trying to keep your mind off the hunger pangs plaguing your stomach. It wasn’t until you were on the third one that you felt the tingling of a pair of eyes on you, and when you turned to face the person in question, you were greeted by none other than 5.0.5.

The bear was poking his head into the doorway, eyes alight with an innocent curiosity as he stared at you. When he noticed you had acknowledged his presence, a small howl escaped him that bordered downright cartoonish in its over-exaggeration, almost like what you’d expect from a dog in a cartoon. You supposed that was his way of greeting you. Returning his greeting with a “hello there”, you gestured for 5.0.5 to enter the kitchen.

“Come on in, I’m just making some breakfast for everyone!” 

He did as you said, waddling into the kitchen and placing himself behind you, hunching down some to rest his head on your shoulder as he peeked over your noticeably smaller form. Goodness, if you thought he was huge while sitting, he was  _ enormous _ while standing! Yet still, it was clear that he was indeed the living definition of “gentle giant”, with how he took much care to not apply too much of his weight to your shoulder as he rested upon it. This bear was just too adorable to-- well...  _ bear _ ! How could he even be in the same league with such a high-tier villain as Black Hat? Though it’s not like you could complain. If there was one thing you needed in your life right now, it was this big, blue blob of sweetness!

“Hey Fives, how would you like an omelet?” You asked playfully, placing a finished one onto a plate and handing it to him. “Dig in, bud!” 

5.0.5 scrunched his nose as he inspected the omelet, offering it a sniff before giving it a small lick. He seemed to find its taste acceptable, because the very next second he was scarfing it down like there was no tomorrow, with eyes as wide as saucers. Within the span of several seconds, the omelet had vanished completely from his plate, not a single crumb spared in the process. Well, at least you were more confident in your cooking now. 

A giggle bubbled from your lips, and you went about preparing a fourth and fifth omelet with the remaining egg-milk mixture. Now with his hunger proper sated and in even higher spirits than before, 5.0.5 took his dish over to the sink and quickly scrubbed it with a soapy sponge under a stream of warm water, then set it on a rack to air-dry. 

It was a fascinating display, really, watching a bear perform like a regular person. Then again, there were many experimentees similar to him, most of which being perfectly capable of performing normal functions as well as any human or mutant would. 

You still didn’t have much of a grasp over the concept of 5.0.5 being a failure. He seemed to harbor considerable intelligence for a bear, genetically altered as he may be, considering he understood language and could respond, albeit by nonverbal means. Most experiments these days turn out ruthless, brainless monsters that often have to be put down by their creators not long after their quote unquote birth, unless they were made for that exact purpose and used to cause mayhem and the like. If that was the original plan Flug had for 5.0.5, then you’re glad his experiment was botched. 

5.0.5, after taking care of his plate, plopped down on the floor beside you, continuing to watch you as you worked on each omelet. When you finally finished cooking, you shut off the burner and dumped your messy dishes in the sink, turning on the water and grabbing a sponge to clean them. Your movements were halted, however, when a large paw was placed on your shoulder. 

“Hmm, what is it?” 

“Baw!” 

Using his other paw to nudge your side, it took you several moments to figure out what 5.0.5 was trying to say, but eventually the cogs in your brain began to turn, and you scooted out of the way, handing him the sponge. He even wants to clean for you? This bear is an angel!

Allowing 5.0.5 to take over, you took a plate and utensils off the counter and walked into the dining hall. Choosing the closest chair to you, which just so happened to be the one sitting across from Black Hat’s, you set your plate on the table and sat down. It didn’t take long before you were digging in with vigor, munching down with a speed that could have rivaled 5.0.5’s. 

There was a faint sense of shame that came with gorging yourself silly, though it was simply irrational. It’s not like anyone is here to watch you. 5.0.5 is doing the dishes, Flug is working in the lab, Demencia is crawling around in the vents probably, and Black Hat is doing… well, Black Hat stuff. Besides, given that it had been over a day since you last ate, you had a right to eat as fast as you wanted! 

Hmm, speaking of not eating, how was Flug holding up? You know he’s been sacrificing sleep for the sake of his work - he said it himself, after all - and the odds are he’s probably skipping out on meals too. You’ll go bring him his breakfast once you’re done with your own, though it may have to be nuked in the microwave for a bit-- wait, scratch that thought. There is no microwave.

Ugh, curse this place and its lack of modern technology! 

Well, hopefully Flug will find a lukewarm omelet acceptable. Though, if you were being honest with yourself, if the guy can drink plain coffee, then you’re confident he can eat pretty much anything, regardless of its temperature, taste, or otherwise. You had to give it to him - the guy had some serious guts for someone who rarely uses his guts. 

You continued to devour your breakfast at the same pace as before, only slowing down once you were about halfway done. Hmm, now that you had time to properly taste your omelet, it was a tad too dry for your liking. Perhaps you should have put some butter on it before digging in. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers, you supposed; you were both far too hungry and far too lazy to go grab butter. 

When you had finally finished, to say you were pleased would be an understatement, now with the seemingly bottomless pit in your stomach filled. You brought your plate out to the kitchen, where 5.0.5 was still scrubbing away. You gently placed your dish in the sink next to the others, and gave the bear a pat as your apology for giving him more work, yet 5.0.5 remained unbothered by it, continuing to happily wash away. 

“I’m gonna go bring Flug his breakfast, m’kay? I’ll be right back,” you informed him, taking a plate into your hold. Luckily, it was still slightly warm, so it wouldn’t be as terrible as it would be if it were cold. 

5.0.5 nodded understandingly, waving you off before returning his attention to his work, and without another word, you strolled out of the kitchen and across the foyer. You mentally praised the lab door for being able to open automatically, as it made having your hands full much less of a hassle. When you entered, Flug was hunched over by his workbench, the surface of which cluttered with a wide array of tools, bolts, screws, and scrap metal. 

The scientist seemed quite wrapped up in his work, as he didn’t even hear you approach. As much as you hated to distract him from his task, especially when he was so focused, you figured keeping him off the path of malnutrition was far more important than his work. At least, you thought so. 

You stood off to his side in an attempt to get his attention without spooking him, hoping he would see you in his peripheral vision. However, the doctor’s attention was far too concentrated on the spherical gadget in his hand, so you had to resort to stealing away his focus with more abrupt means, albeit reluctantly. 

“Hey, uh, Flug?” 

He didn’t even flinch.

“Flug?” 

Even with raising your voice a few octaves, his attention remained unwavering. You didn’t want to raise your tone any higher, as given his neurotic nature, you feared anything faintly reminiscent of a shout would scare him half to death. So, you decided to go down a more subtle route, and nudged his shoulder with your own. 

“Demencia, what did I tell you?” He began suddenly, voice agitated as he turned to face you. “Get out of my… Oh, (Name), it’s just you. Ah, sorry about that - a force of habit. Can I help you?”

“Nope, but I think I can help you,” you replied softly, finding a clear spot on the workbench and setting down the plate. Flug eyed it from behind his goggles, inspecting the dish with a quizzical look in his eye, and then returned his gaze to you. 

“What’s that?”

“Breakfast.”

“Why is breakfast a giant, yellow taco shell?”

“I believe that’s an omelet, Flug.”

“Ah, well that explains it.” 

The wholehearted laugh that rumbled from your throat was irrepressible, bubbling from your lips with unrestrained freedom. 

“Oh dear, it’s worse than I thought,” you remarked, tittering to yourself. “Please, as soon as you’re done with work, do yourself a favor and get some rest. You definitely need it.”

While you found his disconnect from reality comical, it was also a call for serious concern. It was blatantly obvious that the sleep-deprivation was taking a significant toll on his state of mind. While he may still have enough brain-power to work, it didn’t take a scientist - you could practically  _ taste _ the irony - to know it wouldn’t be much longer until his body made the decision for him and forced him to power down. You just prayed he’d find himself in a bed, or at least somewhere relatively comfortable, before that happens.

Flug chuckled sheepishly, gingerly scratching the back of his bagged head with a shaky hand. 

“I’ll see what I can do. No promises, though.” 

“Yep, we’ll certainly be seeing about that, Flug.”

“Oh? What’s that supposed to mean, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He shot you a questioning glance, though his tone was laced with a smugness that bordered mockery, provided cordially by the hysterical misconceptions of his weary mind.

You smirked, tone mirroring his own. 

“Nothing in particular. I mean, I suppose only that I’m going to be checking in on you periodically. If you’re out like a light the next time I see you, I’ll assume you’re either dead or close to it, and I’ll be calling for a doctor in a heartbeat.” 

You seemed to pique his interest at that, and he eyed you further, shielded eyes alight with amusement from what you could see 

“Is that a joke?”

“I thought you’d be able to tell me. You _ are _ the doctor here, aren’t you?”

Your battle of wits ended there. Flug submitted, hands raising in surrender, and the tables turned as you were filled with an overwhelming sense of pride and self-satisfaction. You had beaten the doctor at his own game, though the subdued voice nagging at the back of your mind told you that your victory was only even fathomable because you had caught the scientist at a moment of great intellectual weakness. As true as that might have been, you weren’t one to deny an opportunity for victory, as dirty a win as it may be.

“I appreciate the chat, (Name), but I really must get back to work. Black Hat would have my head hanged above the fireplace if the device isn’t complete by tomorrow,” Flug explained, swiveling back towards the workbench.

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to crack a joke or if he was actually earnest in his response, but you weren’t willing to test neither the former or latter. 

“Alright then,” you nudged the plate towards him slightly. “Just make sure you eat your breakfast before it gets cold. I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

“Yes, yes, I will, don’t worry. Now off with you. I’m tired and I have work to do.” 

He shooed you away with one hand while the other attended to the spherical device Black Hat was so insistent he finished within a day’s time, beginning to fiddle with frayed wires and loose bolts and screws. As you walked towards the exit, you flashed him one last cheeky grin.

It was obvious by the way his limbs moved at their sluggish pace and how he struggled to retrain several yawns that Flug’s time in the waking world was just about up. You were confident in the thought that he’d be out like a light within the hour. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just don't expect him to be very merciful the next time you engage each other in a battle of wits. You only won because he was tired. 
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so short, I'm trying to mix things up a bit. I usually push myself to write 5000 words or more for each chapter and I think that may be taking a toll on my writing, so I want to let myself take a break from that for at least a few chapters, until the plot picks up.
> 
> I also want to thank you all for over 100 kudos! It may not seem like much but it means so much to me that so many people enjoy my writing! I hope I can continue to keep you all interested as I have so far!


	8. Look Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news of a hero's death finds its way to Black Hat. Naturally, devious schemes ensue, and they just so happen to involve you as their guinea pig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me as I casually rise from the grave, old writing bones creaking after not being used for a millennia.

Gentle sunlit rays were cast into the chamber, their soft glow tainted oh-so sweetly by panes stained deep vermilion, gold hue corrupted into sinful rose. Black Hat leisurely sat upon in his throne of velvet and dark oak, newspaper in one hand and cup in the other as his eyes moved across the front headline. 

_ ‘Hatsville Hero’s Departure: Spark Flame Dies Peacefully in His Sleep’ _

Now  _ that _ caught his attention. 

His eyebrows raised and an intrigued smile tugged at his mouth. He quickly skimmed over the article, gathering the basics. His finger found itself hovering over the picture of the hero beside the text, tracing over his greased back salt-and-pepper hair and broad shoulders, his wrinkled smiling face and ridiculous tight-covered legs, before his claw unsheathed and sliced the hero’s neck, tearing the paper. 

Black Hat’s smirk quickly grew into a wide grin. 

“So, the old Flame has finally died out. Hmph, about time. Sixty-five years of being a pesky goody two-shoes can cause unexpected bucket kicks,” the eldritch mused humorously. “Still, a shame about the peaceful death. If only the old coot could have died in my very own self-powered electric chair! Oh well, one less thorn in my side, I suppose.” 

A wicked cackle rose from his throat, and he slammed his hands on the armrests in a sudden outburst of exhilaration and merry delight. An idea was brewing in the far reaches of his vile mind, festering into a bewitching butterfly of malevolence, corrupting his thoughts like the blackest death, yet still so sinfully sweet, for there existed no finer wine one could imbibe than evil’s temptation. 

Spark Flame’s departure from this realm left open a vacancy, brimming with opportunities and perfectly ripe for the taking, like a succulent apple hanging upon its branch, ready to be plucked and poisoned. Black Hat was more than prepared to snatch that apple from its mother’s nurturing roots, to turn that shining scarlet to darkest black, to make its juices run dry and fester with his venom’s blessing. 

His lovely fruit of evil’s vile plague could infect even the purest hearts, twisting them into wicked monsters and leaving not one ounce of morality left in their being. It was such a delicious thought to entertain, such a beautifully dark scheme unfolding within the deepest depths of his sinister mind that it was hard to contain himself from setting it into action immediately. No, this would require a great deal of patience on his part, something he was dismal to give, yet remained willing to sacrifice for the sanctity of his stratagem. He would have to nurture his appointed host, training both body and mind before they could take a bite of the wicked fruit’s venomous flesh, lest all sentient capabilities be drowned out in evil’s inundation. 

Black Hat tossed aside the ruined paper, fingertips sparking and setting it ablaze in black hellfire, which ate up the pages within mere seconds, leaving behind only soot on the desk’s untouched surface. He would have it cleaned up later, for now he had brewing schemes to focus his mind on. 

“I’ll have to cancel that eight o’clock appointment.” 

**\------ ~~~ ------**

“Hey, Fives, have you seen the dustpan? I just found the motherload of crumbs underneath here.” 

“Baw?”

“Oh, whoops. That may have been from me. Sorry ‘bout that!” 

“Dem, how the hell did you manage to get the Mount Everest of crumbs underneath a single sofa?”

“I’ve had quite the few late night snacks here in my time… and maybe a couple wild parties here and there.” 

“I think I just saw it move. Oh God, this thing is alive.”

“Wait, is Rufus down there? I’ve been looking all over for him! He must be hungry. Bear, go make him a sandwich! A fluffernutter one - that’s his favorite!” 

“Nope. That’s it, I’m done.” 

You scooted as far away as possible from the sofa, until your back pressed hard against the wall, taking off your gloves and clutching them tightly in balled fists. Demencia shot you an eye roll, mumbling something about you being a wuss, and crawled closer, sticking her face into the dark crevice as far as she could reach, talking to Rufus, whoever that was… or _ is _ . 

5.0.5 sighed, the flower sprouting from his head drooping in disgruntlement as he waddled out of the room to do as the crazed woman demanded, tossing aside the duster and cloth by the door. To your great astonishment and fright alike, whatever was hiding beneath the sofa began responding to Demencia’s calls. Animalistic snarls and growls resounded from the dark abyss of stale cereal and moldy food crumbs, returned with howls and hisses of the same inhuman measure. It soon became increasingly clear that whatever was being exchanged between the two was no different than a friendly conversation. 

You stared blankly upon the unraveling scene, all ounces of anything resembling terror having left your being, replaced by a strange, morbid interest. It was quite fascinating, actually. 

The clearing of a throat alerted Demencia and yourself to attention, the bestial exchange halting to give leave to a flood of silence colder and deader than the grave. Black Hat had appeared in the doorway, expression twisted with a combination of annoyance and faint confusion as he surveyed the scene. 

“What in the name of all things unholy is going on in here?” 

It was just as those words left the eldritch’s mouth that 5.0.5 returned from the kitchen, carrying a plate presenting a lovely fluffernutter sandwich, as per requested. He approached the sofa housing Rufus from sight, sliding the meal beneath it. Not moments later could the sounds of chewing be heard as the sandwich was happily devoured by Rufus, now perfectly content with his proper feeding.  

5.0.5 looked about the room, exchanging glances with its other occupants, his expression a precise mirroring of theirs, a blank look with no definable emotion to potentially label. The thick veil of silence was finally broken when you piped up: 

“It’s exactly what it looks like.” 

Black Hat groaned, face resting in the palms of his hands. 

“Why do I even bloody bother with asking anymore? Look, I don’t care to find out the meaning of this nonsense, but I do well intend on ending it here. All of you, return to your duties this instant! Except for you, (Name). You’re coming with me.” 

Your face scrunched in desperate confusion. What could he possibly want from you now? You hated to break it to him, but you were running scarcely low on things to give. Your soul was already sold and your will to live just got thrown out with the two month-old leftovers in the fridge. Nonetheless, you made an attempt to remain optimistic. 

“As you wish, sir,” you complied, gathering yourself and rising from the floor. 

Demencia huffed in lovesick frustration that her dear Black Hat awayed with his new mortal slave, not one gracious word cooed in her direction. Yet her agitation was fickle in its perseverance, taking a swift leave to allow sweet adoration to flow unrestrained. 

“I love it when he plays hard to get!” 

Meanwhile, each step you took down the halls made the unease in the pit of your stomach grow greater. Black Hat disclosed nothing of his need for you, completely silent as he strode ahead, leaving you to straggle close behind. Yet still, you could see that the grin twisting at his lips had spread far to the sides of his face, which was never a fortunate sign. 

You passed through corridors you had yet to venture into until now, though they were no different than the others you were accustomed to. They were just as dark and as narrow as this one, yet devoid of the familiar twists and turns the ones on the upper floor possessed. The silent mystery eventually began to play with your nerves, unease morphing into icy dread. You couldn’t stand the silence any longer. 

“Sir, where are we going?”

A dark chuckle was the grinning demon’s response. 

“You’ll just have to see for yourself, now won’t you?” 

“That’s kinda ominous.”

“I apologize, then. I never meant to imply this would be a peaceful walk through the rose garden.” 

“This place has a rose garden?”

"And a lovely graveyard right beside it. Excellent fertilizer, but the bodies do get rather unruly this time of year. Would you like to see it?"

"Well then. Forget I said anything." 

“That's what I thought. Look alive, now, we're here.” 

The eldritch’s abrupt halt nearly sent you stumbling into him, the hall having grown so dark he blended in near perfectly with the shadows, yet you managed to regain control over your footing before impact. The pale illumination of grin teeth and faint gleam of a monocle was the last you saw before you were pushed into a pitch-black room, yelping in alarm as you fell to your knees. 

“After you.”

“Yeah, thanks for the warning.” 

“You’re quite welcome. My gentlemanly nature exceeds myself, I know.”

His tone was laced heavily with sarcasm, mockery’s venom dripping elegantly from his forked tongue. 

A sharp finger snap lifted the chamber from darkness as light poured down from the ceiling, expelling the blanket of shadow that had long since settled over your vision. You had found yourself in a chamber constructed wholly out of stone, with carved pillars lining the walls. The most eye-widening thing in the room, however, was the colossal golem standing dead in its center. 

The golem beared a sharp resemblance to the demon it was constructed to serve. A black top hat rested upon its crown and its body was built and painted to suit the likeness of a butler’s attire. Metal teeth jutted from its maw, and clawed hands rested at its sides. It showed no signs of life ticking away at its gears, yet the machine still proved intimidating to behold witness to. 

Rising to your feet, it was to your surprise that a familiar bagged head poked out from behind the contraption, the doctor emerging from his cover and stepping into view. 

“This is a Hatbot,” Flug explained, a rectangular device carried in his arms. “Designed by myself to serve villains in their conquests… for a price, of course. It has many features, all programmed to carry out a variety of functions, but today, we will only be testing a select few.” 

Black Hat smirked devilishly. 

“And that is to _ test _ your mettle. You’ve shown me a preview of your capabilities before, now I wish to see them in full. Hopefully, I was not mistaken in my judgement of your promise.” 

From his palm bellowed an inky mist, a cold fire which burned dark, and from its flames manifested the only thing that had offered you any form of protection, your beloved dagger. It has placed gently in your open hand as the demon strode past, joining the scientist as his side to watch from afar. 

Slowly, the pieces clicked together in your head, and you became increasingly aware of the situation thrust onto you. Black Hat grinned, and you squeaked in alarm as the door behind you slammed shut, locking with a soft  _ ‘click,’  _ all at the snap of his fingers. You were now completely locked in here, with no possibility of escaping. 

Well, shit. 

Flug tapped away at the device in his hands, adjusting levels and verifying settings. 

“The Hatbot is booting up. Stand your ground.” 

The clinking of gears began to fill the chamber, and two of its three living occupants stepped aside to observe the Hatbot from a distance. A surge of mortal fear shot through your veins, blood pumping faster and flesh breaking out into a cold sweat. A hard swallow pushed harshly against the back of your throat as the machine’s eye flickered to life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this chapter being so short, it's a quick practice run after dealing with writer's block. In other news, the plot is slowly but surely being set into motion, hooray! I promise not to go on another 2+ month hiatus again, I swear. Expect some more action in the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I try to update this every 2 weeks, but there's definitely going to be times where it may take longer. If I don't update for long time, it's because I'm busy with school and/or dealing with writer's block. I don't plan on abandoning this work, so don't worry!
> 
> If you feel like talking with me, here's my tumblr!
> 
> https://themalevolentmilky.tumblr.com


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